


The Pros and Cons of Living in Stark Tower (Or "How Darcy Kept A Big Secret and Then It All Came Out")

by wickedhoney7



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bruce Has Issues, Darcy is a Goddess, F/M, Hulk Feels, Science Bros, Tags make my brain twitch, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-02
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-22 04:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedhoney7/pseuds/wickedhoney7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Darcy has a secret despite living and working with spies and superheroes.<br/>In which the Hulk responds to Darcy's reasoning quite nicely but Bruce is awkward and standoff-ish.<br/>In which Steve is a protector when he doesn't need to be and Tony likes to stand at the back of the room and laugh.<br/>In which the Spy Twins (aka Clint and Natasha) don't know everything.<br/>In which Thor convinces Jane that animals are allowed in the lab.<br/>In which Darcy wishes the iPod Nazi was still alive so he could contain the crazy people she's surrounded by.</p><p> </p><p>[Author's Note: This is my first time writing in this fandom, but I knew immediately than when I started, it would have to be Darcy/Bruce all the way.  I hope the personalities I've given them are acceptable to the general masses.  I'm not a genius or scientist and I will admit that some of my research comes from Wikipedia (the rest comes from a deep relationship with all things sugar-ful), but I hope you will think kindly on me and enjoy the journey of these two mismatched lovers regardless.  Cheers.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pro: Annoy Tony with iPod

  
Despite working with SHIELD and being in highly Avenger-centric situations, it was surprisingly easy to keep secrets. True, Hawkeye was more often than not spying from the ventilation systems, and Natasha's eyes saw everything --she even noticed when Jane wore a shade of lipstick half a shade darker than her usual color one day. After almost six months of being surrounded by spies and superheroes, though, Darcy Lewis was pretty confident that she had achieved the impossible.

It helped, she conceded, that she did not live in Stark Tower with the rest of the Avengers. Though Tony had offered a room when he finally noticed her presence in Jane's lab two weeks after her arrival --and she tried very hard not to hold that against him-- she had politely and graciously declined. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the gesture, and lord knew that even with SHIELD paychecks coming on a regular basis she was still on a tight budget and could have used the free rent. But she had worked hard to find the one-bedroom apartment, scouring newspapers and online notices for weeks before she moved to the city, and she had already signed a lease, and just in case the Avengers got sick of her or she mortally offended Tony --though the longer she knew him, the less possible she thought that was-- she didn't want a broken lease hanging over her head and possibly harming any chances she had of getting another place on her own.

  
Her six-month lease was nearly up now, and Darcy sat at the small dinette table in the small kitchen of her small apartment making a list of pros and cons on whether or not to extend her lease or whether she should move into Stark Tower with the rest of the disgustingly talented and beautiful after all. She told herself she wasn't bitter about being the odd man out; she may not have superpowers or be dating the god of thunder, but she was a goddess in her own right, and she could name on both hands the number of people who would fall into decline if she were to disappear. And there were perks, aside from the nonexistent rent, to living there.

"Think of the sound systems at your disposal, D," Tony had told her just the other day. "And all the Starktech at your disposal so you don't need to worry about that worthless POS you bring in every day."  
Darcy smiled at the memory and wrote Annoy Tony with iPod in the pros column. If there was one point of contention between the two of them, it was that she had failed to upgrade from Apple to Starktech. It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of a newer, less-likely-to-break-when-I-really-need-to-jam mp3 player, and she knew if she asked for one in a bright purple zebra pattern, she would get it (not that she would, of course, but it was nice knowing she could if she so desired). The look on Tony's face, however, when he had first seen the so-called archaic device in her hands had been priceless, to say the least, and Darcy now wouldn't change her iPod for anything.

A ding sounded from behind her and she went still a moment before a large smile broke out on her face and she vacated the kitchen for the equally small living room. The Starktech laptop --she couldn't say no to that one after celebrating her previous laptop's eighth birthday last year-- was situated precariously on the arm of the old sofa and it wobbled a little as she sat down. Jane had nearly had a heart attack when she had first visited and nearly fally through the old thing. (Darcy had since had the base of the sofa reinforced.) The piece was falling apart, the covers were ripped, if you didn't fall through you would sink in the obnoxiously squishy cushions anyway, and who in their right mind wanted a bright green sofa with apples all over it? Darcy did, for one, and she was prepared to fight to the death if Tony said she couldn't bring the old thing into her new state-of-the-art apartment. Sure, the piece of furniture was mere steps from a bonfire, but it had character and Darcy thought it suited her perfectly.

It wasn't the sofa, however, that was making her smile as she settled in front of the laptop and opened up the Skype application. How anyone had survived before video chat, she didn't know, and her smile widened as she noted the green icon beside the screenname ShakespearesDelia26. She clicked on it immediately and chose video call and waited while it rang.

"Okaa-san!"

Darcy laughed as the bright-eyed young girl spoke before she could, and she let her eyes soak up every pixelated feature before she replied.

"What is that? Korean?"

Turquoise eyes rolled in exasperation and her lips formed a pout. Darcy figured she should probably keep to herself how adorable that expression was, and she bit back a smile. Cordelia Kathryn Lewis was the absolute apple of her eye, and more like her than she possibly cared to admit, and despite the age difference, Darcy admitted to a little fear concerning her temper.

"It's Japanese," she answered mulishly and Darcy nodded as if that made sense despite having no sense for either of the two languages.

"Oh. Got it. Why?"

"You know why. Mimi won't let me--"

"Mimi can stuff it," Darcy began haughtily and then laughed at the mortified expression on the young girl's face. "I'm kidding, Cord. Mostly," she added when the look turned suspect. "But why Japanese? Only last night I thought you'd decided on French."

She shrugged and sighed.

"Mimi heard and yelled at me."

Darcy sat up straight and that and scowled.

"She did what?" Her mother may have joint custody of the girl, but Darcy would be damned if she let the woman bully the young girl, especially over something stupid like calling her mother exactly that.

"Her boyfriend was over." They both frowned in distaste, their expressions identical if they but knew it, before the girl went on. "I don't think he likes me."

"He's an idiot," Darcy snapped and then sighed and rubbed at her temples. The man who would be her stepfather was starting to get on her nerves and she hadn't even met the man. It wasn't that she didn't want her mother to be happy, but the more she heard about Arthur or Arnold or whatever his name was, the less she liked him. "But never mind him. Why does Mimi care? You're at home, aren't you?"

"I don't know," she shrugged in reply. "Mimi's been weird lately."

"Trust me, hon, she's been weird since the dawn of time."

The girl giggled and Darcy felt a knot of tension ease at the sight before she went suddenly serious and Darcy narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"So," Cordelia began, "tomorrow is a pretty important day."

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow," Darcy frowned, and bit her tongue so she wouldn't laugh.

"April sixteenth and all that..."

"April sixteenth," she nodded and then shrugged. "Yeah, what about it?"

The pout that appeared on her face again tripped her up and Darcy couldn't keep a straight face through it.

"Oh, hon. Of course I remember what tomorrow is. It's not every day you turn ten years old."

The grin was instantaneous and Darcy felt a pang at the sight. She wished Tony would hurry up and complete his calculations concerning teleportation --she would call him a liar to his face if he tried to deny working on any such thing-- so she wouldn't have to feel like this, being stuck over halfway across the country from those she loved most. The distance between New York and Arizona made her wish she lived in a country like France or Germany, where you could cross the entire country in a day. Though true, she could have worked at the facility in New Mexico that SHIELD started shortly after Thor's arrival, Jane had pleaded with her to join her in New York after receiving a call from the Tony Stark offering her a lab and the best equipment money and genius could buy or make, and when Jane really wanted something, those amber eyes of hers were a force to be reckoned with, and so Darcy found herself in the Big Apple less than six weeks later.

That's what you get for taking an internship meant for astrophysicists, she thought ruefully, and then blinked as Cordelia brought her back to the present.

"So, did you get me anything?"

Derailed from her melancholy thoughts, Darcy smiled and shook her head.

"Cordi, what's rule number six?"

She sighed in reply and nodded as morosely as an almost-ten-year-old could.

"I know, I know. No spoiling surprises, for yourself or others. I hate that rule."

"That rule has saved many a life on Christmas Eve, young lady. Speaking of lives saved, have you heard from Kurtis lately?"

Darcy's eyes drifted toward the photo on the mantle, of herself and Cordelia alongside a tall, handsome blonde with a grin wider than the horizon, and she felt another pang in her chest. Though he was six years younger than her, he was the closest thing to a best friend she'd had over the years, and it didn't matter that his name was Lewis. They said friends were the family you chose, and Darcy would choose her younger brother in every era, in every universe. If he knew of her sentiments, Kurtis would probably say "I'm just that awesome," and leave it at that. He was more than that, though; he was Darcy's confidance, support, and her go-to comedian when she was down and needed a laugh. He was her protector, even when she didn't need it, even when it was at the risk of losing his other friends and loved ones. When she had been awkward in middle school, pretty but outcast as a slut in high school, when she wanted to drop out of college because she was surrounded by teenagers and all the drama that came with them, he was there to talk her down from the ledge, and give her the push to reach her goals. Darcy didn't know how she got so lucky with him, but she didn't question it, and she wouldn't trade him for all the Starktech in Tony's basement.

Though now she thought about it, she wasn't actually sure if Stark Tower had a basement. She frowned, only to be broken from her musings by Cordelia's voice.

Pay attention, numbskull, she chastised herself as the girl spoke.

"Uncle Kurtis called me yesterday because he said he was sure to forget about tomorrow.

Darcy grinned at that; it sounded exactly like him. It was also a complete load of crock. Kurtis had a mind like a steel trap; she wasn't quite sure if he had a photographic memory or not, but his knack for recalling so many details at the drop of a hat with the accuracy of a sharpshooter had certainly worked to his advantage. He had just passed the bar, and at twenty-one to boot. She thought he might have done so sooner, but she had once overheard him saying how awkward it would feel to take his clients out for celebratory drinks and have to order himself a Shirley Temple.

"I'm sure he's going to surprise you with something big, hon," Darcy began, but Cordelia shook her head.

"I don't think so. He said he's in the middle of a big case, and to not even save a piece of cake for him."

Her expression was so forlorn that Darcy felt near to crying herself. To celebrate a birthday as important as ten without your loved ones around? She acknowledged that Mimi did love her on some level, but to live in a household where your grandmother was afraid to be called such just because she was under fifty, or to have her Aunt Olive leading a constant stream of men through the house without a care to the rest of those living there? Darcy promised herself that she would save up and visit again, the sooner the better. Maybe she could have a little summer vacation with her?

A part of her wondered why she didn't just request that the girl be brought to New York, but she didn't want Cordelia mixed up in any SHIELD or Avengers nonsense. She had gotten herself into this mess, and once she'd proved herself trustworthy --post a picture of a god on Facebook and suddenly you're a threat to interuniversal security-- she would get herself right back out and get back to her little girl.

"Buck up, Cord. I'm sure he got you something anyway."

The light blossomed in her eyes immediately and Darcy felt a wave of relief float through her.

"You think so? Really?"

"Absolutely," she returned with a grin. "He's gotta spend that big lawyer's paycheck on something worthwhile, doesn't he?" Cordelia matched her, grin for grin, and Darcy continued, "So, tell me, how are things with that--"

She broke off midway through a question about a history project Cordelia had mentioned the other day as her phone went off in her pocket. She would have ignored it; she worked nine to five and the rest of the day was hers to do what she wanted with it, and screw the rest of the world if they tried to tell her any different. Only it was Steve's ringtone, and that meant something important was going on. Honestly, that man was such a gentleman, he wouldn't call a woman after nine o'clock on a Saturday, and here it was a quarter to eleven on a Tuesday.

"Shoot. Cord, hon, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Is that your boyfriend?"

Darcy blinked and then stuck her tongue out at the young girl.

"Eww? Don't be gross, Cordelia. You of all people should know that boys are yucky and I don't want anything to do with them."

"Except Uncle Kurtis."

"Except Uncle Kurtis," she nodded, and Cordelia frowned before asked, "Is that your girlfriend, then?"

Darcy laughed out loud and shook her head.

"You're ridiculous. I love you, Cordelia, but I have to go." Never mind that the phone had stopped ringing. Steve would call right back; he always did. "Be good for Mimi, okay?"

The distaste on her face was clear, but she nodded.

"Good girl. I love you."

"I love you more."

"I love you most. Good night, Cord."

"Good night, Okaa-san!"

The screen went blank and Darcy shook her head. That girl was definitely something.

Heaven help us all when she becomes a teenager, she thought and took her phone from her pocket as it started to ring again. Part of her wondered what Steve would say if he knew she had the old USO show theme of his for his ringtone, but he'd probably get a kick out of it.

The time for wondering was past, though, and she had to force the smile as she answered the phone.

"Tell me where, Cap, and I'm on my way."

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Darcy was headed towards Lab Thirteen on the thirteenth floor --and Christ, Tony had a morbid sense of humor, especially considering there were only two labs on that floor in the first place-- as Steve, all decked out in his glittery Captain America suit, filled her in. (She wondered briefly why he suited up for an in-house incident, but the time for wondering, etc, etc.) Dr Banner had been working late in the lab --and honestly, what was with these scientists? Was beauty sleep a totally foreign concept to them?-- when one of the newbie SHIELD agents broke in and tried to kill him.

Darcy had little pity for Jenkins or Jennings or whatever his name was, as, if he'd done his homework like the spy he obviously was, he'd have known he was going on a suicide mission --though Steve had said he appeared alive, if unconscious, when they removed the man from the area. She had nothing but contempt for SHIELD, who were stupid enough to hire the enemy. She had a feeling this never would have happened on the iPod Nazi's watch, and she said a quick prayer for Agent Coulson and the poor bastard who had replaced him. Director Fury was going to have someone's head for this, and it didn't take brains to imagine who.

"So the bad guy's out for the count, and nothing was stolen. Remind me why you guys can't handle clean-up yourselves?"

"Agent Lewis--"

"Come on, Cap. You know I'm not a real agent. I'm just a glorified lab assistant and secretary."

"You've got agent clearance, and that's enough for me, ma'am."

She gritted her teeth at the 'ma'am,' but she knew he meant it with the utmost respect, so she let it slide, though she still missed the days he referred to her as 'Miss' before her realized that she was closer to his age --physically, at least-- than most other recent college graduates.

"Whatever," she shook her head, casting aside both his words and her thoughts, before asking, "So what's up? Please tell me Banner's not dumb enough to want to keep working after an incident like this?"

"Bruce? Nah, he's not dumb. He's a regular Stephen Hawking."

She raised a brow at the modern reference, but didn't comment. She was honestly surprised at all the things he understood, after reading his files and realizing why the good captain gave off such an old-fashioned aura sometimes. She didn't doubt that he had to work twice as hard as anyone just to keep up with the rest of the gang.

"Fine, he's a genius," she conceded and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. She had pulled her hair back in a simple ponytail before she left, knowing it could be wreckless to take the time to pin it all up as she usually did, but the layered strands didn't always like to behave when she took less care than normal, and apparently now was one of those misbehaving moments. "So what, then? Did he knock something over and needs help reorganizing files? Honestly, I don't think I'm getting paid enough to just drop things and come help you guys whenever you..."

Her voice trailed off as she turned a corner and noted the assemblage of agents huddled outside the doors to Lab Thirteen, safety clearly off on all firearms in sight, and she noted the grumbling roar coming from inside.

"Son of a bitch," she said succinctly and turned to jab Steve in the chest. "You didn't say a damn thing about dealing with him."

"I..."

Steve looked appropriately shamefaced and she groaned.

"I can't believe this. Banner, you idiot," she growled, and then shook her head before Steve could defend his genius again. "No, I'm an idiot. For thinking I could trust you to say Code Green when it's a Code freaking Green!"

He winced and she took in a breath. She needed to calm down if she was going to deal with Banner's alter ego. Not to mention the agents were watching her like HBO's PrimeTime, and she hated being a source of gossip, especially among spies. She mentally added Too much back-fence talk to the cons column of her list and tried for a smile as she looked up at Steve. It helped, actually, to think that she could scare Captain America, even when he towered over her as he did.

"How tall are you, Cap?" she asked and he blinked, his pretty blue eyes clouding with confusion.

"Uh..."

"Never mind. I'm sorry. I just...I'd have liked a little warning, Steve."

He nodded soberly, and though she had mostly gotten used to the look, she wasn't yet completely immune to the puppy-dog eyes he set on her.

"I'm sorry, Agent--Darcy. It's just...you told me last week that you would rather Bruce destroy his lab than deal with the 'green demon' again."  
Darcy sighed and nodded.

"Yes, I did say that. And maybe I meant it," she conceded, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't come anyway."

"Duly noted. So you'll help, then?"

"Yes."

No, she thought and fingered the taser at her waist. Though she had upgraded since she had arrived, she knew it would just annoy the Big Guy and she might find herself broken against a wall if she tried to use it on him.

Wouldn't be the first time, a smirking voice reminded her, and she stood a little straight as she turned back toward the door. All eyes were on her and she knew exactly what they saw. Short, curvy brunette in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and capri pants, with double-knotted purple Converse knock-offs on her feet and lipstick that was perhaps a little too pink. She was outlandish and wild and completely underdressed compared to the SHIELD agents' neatly pressed suits and the Captain's Star-Spangled Spandex. She looked like a little kid trying to play with high schoolers on the playground. Those too-pink lips were curved in the first genuine smile since Steve had called, though, and she gave her audience a smart salute as she walked to the door.

"Watch and learn, ladies and germs. Watch and learn."

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

The first time Darcy met the Hulk definitely fell in the top three scariest moments in her life --the first being hearing the doctors in the delivery room say "She's not breathing," and second being the moment of Cordelia's conception. (She still had nightmares about those particular events.) Walking into a lab unawares to be faced with a giant green rage monster destroying the place landed at number three. She supposed someone a little more normal would have put the experience smack dab at number one, but she had read his files, watched as many videos as she had time for in the three weeks she had been on the SHIELD payroll at the time, and though she had yet to meet the illustrious Dr Banner, she had a feeling that his hulking out had little to do with her, so she wasn't feeling particularly threatened.

A giant green rage monster was exactly that, though, and when he turned those furious green eyes on her she realized that, threat or no, she was in danger where she stood. He was literally feet above her own 5'3" height, and she had recently watched footage where he had uprooted a tree that had probably been grown for a couple hundred years. Danger was perhaps an understatement.

Of course, Darcy being Darcy, rather than run and get some help, she tried to reason with the monster. Tony had laughed for days, even weeks afterwards at the footage, and played the sound bytes every time she walked into a room.

"Alright, Big Guy. Let's settle down and keep your hands where I can see 'em. We don't want any trouble here."

It was funny, she could admit, if only after the fact. She would never admit it, but she had been nigh on terrified as she spoke with the giant creature. The real kicker was, from the looks of things, her reasoning was actually working. The Hulk had lost that angry glare and was looking at Darcy, if not like a friend, then at least like an interesting new toy. She had gotten within his reach, a smile somehow on her face, when a robot rather aptly named Dummy waltzed into the lab and sent an alarm that had alerted not only the rest of the tower to the existence of the monster, but had literally alarmed the Big Guy, which had resulted in Darcy being flung to the side and suffering from numerous cuts, abrasians, cracked ribs, and an arm broken in three places.

In retrospect, Darcy could believe that the Hulk had acted instinctively, brushing her aside with intent to protect, not harm. Obviously, he had brushed a little too hard and Darcy celebrated her one-month anniversary of living in New York and working for SHIELD in the recovery ward of the SHIELD's hospital. She forgave all, however, the moment Dr Banner walked into her room with the largest bouquet of pink and yellow roses she had even seen (she would absolutely deny that the two roses pressed in the pages of her old dictionary were from that bouquet), and life went on as usual, or as usual as life could be, surrounded by spies and superheroes as she was.

Still, that first meeting had left an indelible mark on her psyche, and so Darcy took a little more care not to get so close in future meetings, no matter how amenable the Hulk seemed to her 'reasonings.'

This particular evening, when Darcy walked into the lab, she was surprised to see the place relatively intact. The computers were still humming on the corner desk, the screens on the back wall had nary a crack in them, and though she had her doubts that his chair was still usable, the missing seat cushion being the likely origin of the fluff surrounding him, the Hulk had somehow managed to keep the destruction to one corner of the room.

"Nice job, Big Guy. It's not nearly as messy in here as usual." He cast a glare her way but didn't even grant her the courtesy of a reply and she pulled a chair from one of the lab tables and sat backwards in it, facing him. It was curious to watch as he paced round and round in a circle, probably wearing a groove into the floor, and she wondered if the attempted assassination was really bothering him that much, or if it was something else that had him stewing.

"So I heard we had a little excitement this evening," she began casually, watching his face for any sign of emotion. Despite the label 'rage monster,' he had a wide variety of emotions that hid behind that angry expression, and she took a little joy in cataloguing each and every single one of them. At the moment, he seemed more impatient than angry, and wondered what she could say to trigger an explanation. "I keep telling you guys not to work so late, but you scientists, you're all the same, you've got no concept of time, or--"

"NOT ENOUGH TIME."

She stopped and cocked her head to the side in contemplation. Impatient was spot on, apparently.

"Not enought time for what, Big Guy?"

The quickest way to calm him down, rather than telling him to calm down as she had seen others do, was to get him to talk about what bothered him. Sometimes it was as simple as being upset that there was nothing left to smash. (She had to smother a smile as she remembered the petulant expression on his face that time.) Other times, she found herself talking to him about why he hated Banner so much, despite being essentially the same person.

"Big Guy?"

He had started ignoring her again, but he shot a look that spoke of exasperation and shook his head.

"PUNY HUMAN NOT UNDERSTAND," he shot back and she stiffened in affront.

"Excuse me?" She stood slowly, trying to curb the anger she felt radiating off her in waves, but just like the Hulk had his buttons you didn't push, Darcy had hers, and he had just pushed a big red one with a warning sign. She could see by the immediately chastened look on his face that he realized he had misspoke, but she wasn't about to let him off that easy. "I am not a puny human, thank you very much. My name is Darcy, and don't act like you don't know that, you oversized hunk of broccoli." A muffled laugh that sounded suspiciously like Tony came from behind her, but she ignored it as she went on. "And I am sick and tired of being told I won't understand something. I may not be a scientist, but I'm not an idiot, damn it. I have a bachelor's degree and I'm taking classes towards a graduate degree, and I may not speak French or Russian or Latin, but my brother and I created a language all our own when he was six and I was twelve and that's not something idiots can do. I would appreciate it if you'd stop treating me like one. Now you better calm the fuck down and explain to me why it is you're still upset when the battle is over, or so help me, I will destroy this lab myself and you can start whatever experiments you've been doing lately from scratch."

"You tell him, D."

"Not a word out of you, Tony," she snapped, jabbing a finger his direction though she remained facing the Hulk, who looked almost small under the force of her tirade. She pulled her chair closer to him and gestured to the empty table before her. "Sit, boy. And if you think I don't understand, then make me understand. Capiche?"

Tony's wasn't the only laughter she heard when the Hulk situated himself rather delicately on the table, and it was not without effort that Darcy forced her attention on Banner. Yes, she hated being the center of attention, and she wished to heaven and back that Clint had stayed wherever he was during the incident earlier. She knew he wasn't malicious in his gossip, but she swore he was worse than a girl sometimes, and god only knew what Natasha would think of her when she heard this story. She had been near to closing the deal on getting some hand-to-hand combat lessons from the beautiful assassin, and now she would think her more of a freak than ever.

There goes Darcy, the girl who told the Hulk to sit like a dog.

"Damn right I did," she muttered and smiled politely at the hunched over monster. It was a good thing Tony had sprung for high ceilings on every level or the Hulk would be crouching all the time instead of just after Darcy yelled at him. "Now. Explain, please."

He shifted awkwardly, making the table creak loudly, and she sighed and laughed.

"Come on, Big Guy. It's me. Darcy. Talk to me."

He blinked down at her and frowned, though it was without anger, and she felt the tension ease out of her. They were getting somewhere now, weren't they?

"NOT ENOUGH TIME," he said, and she nodded encouragingly.

"Yes, you said that. What is there not enough time for?"

"THIS."

She frowned in confusion and then blinked in surprise as she noted his hand fisted against his chest.

"Not enough time for this...you mean to be the Hulk?"

His scowl was immediate but he nodded, and she bit her tongue as she wondered why. He had always hated changing back, grumbling about Banner and his 'BORING SCIENCE,' and how he just wanted to SMASH. Even when he succumbed to whatever reasoning she gave to calm down, he always did so with a hint of long-suffering upon his face. Only now it seemed he wanted to calm down. Except he couldn't, and that's why she was here, wasn't it?

"So you must be working on something pretty important, huh?"

His only response was a grunt, and she sighed.

"He was saying something this morning about a new strain or something."

She jumped as Tony came up beside her and then rolled her eyes.

"Or something? Aren't you a fellow scientist?"

"Pepper and I had a date tonight. I got a little distracted," he smiled and she frowned.

"Doesn't Pepper usually plan your dates?"

"My turn. Just a bi-monthly thing, obviously."

"Obviously," she said, holding back both a laugh and a shudder at the thought of leaving Tony in charge of anything to do with romance. Pepper was brave, but then again, love made you open to so many stupid, foolish, possibly even dangerous things. She directed her gaze back toward the Hulk and couldn't stop the smile from forming. "So if I'm not much mistaken, you're stressed out because you need to finish your research, and yet your research is stressing you out so you're stuck like this. Vicious cycle."

"You're telling me."

"STARK SHUT MOUTH."

Darcy laughed while Tony pretended to be affronted, and she reached a hand out to touch the Hulk before she remembered herself. A blush started as she pulled back only to pale as he reached himself to grab her hand in his. She wasn't sure if the choking noise was from her or Tony, and she raised wide eyes to meet the Hulk's. They were still green, but they were warmer than she had ever seen them, and her heart started to beat funnily in her chest.

"Um."

"DARCY CALM HULK DOWN?"

"Uh, I can try," she mumbled, and took in a quick breath. This was the first time he had touched her, if you didn't count the whole pushing her into a wall thing from their first encounter. His touch was as gentle as if he were holding a small animal or a fragile egg, and she couldn't help but wonder what it meant that he touched her so. She shook off the notion and pushed herself to focus. If worry was keeping him on edge, all she had to do was ease those worries and he would be fine. Maybe she couldn't ease them completely, she knew, but if she could simply reassure him...

Triumph flashed in her eyes, and she turned the Hulk's hand so she could trace the lines of his palm with her other hand.

"Do you know how smart you are, Big Guy? I mean like really smart. I've been working with Jane and Selvig, and yeah, they've got the passion, but they don't compare to you. Even this bozo," she nodded towards Tony, and her mouth quirked into a grin, "is kind of an idiot sometimes."

"Hey!"

"But you," she went on over Tony's outrage, "are a genius. That paper you wrote on ionization energy? I read that. And yeah, I've said I'm not a genius, but I did like chemistry in high school, and it was just...fascinating. And confusing," she laughed, shaking her head, but her smile was bright as she watched his eyes change from green to brown. "The point is, I know you're worried about whatever this new strain thing is. But you can figure this out. Because you're a genius." His hand started shrinking in hers as she finished, "Because you're Bruce freaking Banner."

She was still smiling as he returned to the Dr Banner they all knew and loved, and decided it only hurt a little when that warm, open expression shut off and he jerked his hand from her grip to pull at the ragged shorts that were just barely holding onto his hips.

"Good to have you back, Brucie," Tony said as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. "And hey, my checkbook thanks you for the minimum damage today."

"You're welcome," the man muttered, shaking Tony off before nodding to Darcy. "Uh, thanks."

"No problem," she replied softly and stood slowly, feeling her muscles ache as they released the tension she hadn't even realized was there. "Hey, is the Captain still here? I need a lift back to my apartment."

"I keep telling you, D. I'll set you up with your own place here, I'll even let you decorate it the way you want."

She thought of her sofa and smiled.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Steve's outside," Clint said, and she blinked. She had forgotten he was there, but then again, it was kind of easy to do so when he had a habit of disappearing when you were paying attention anyway. "Probably biting his nails with worry."

"I am not!" a voice called from outside and Darcy laughed.

"Thanks, Clint," she nodded to him and he nodded in return.

"Nice work there, Agent Lewis."

"Not an agent and you know it, Agent Barton," she sighed, but her eyes belied the statement. That he saw fit to call her one meant a lot more than Steve doing so. "See you in the morning?"

"Well, I'll see you, anyway," he grinned and she rolled her eyes.

Freaking spies, she thought, and didn't know whether that was a pro or con on her list. She was almost to the door of the lab when she shot a glance over her shoulder where Bruce was deep in conversation with Tony as he pulled a shirt over his head, his shorts already replaced with a fresh pair of pants from the supply she knew he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. It was like she wasn't even there. The Hulk was gone and her job was finished. Tomorrow morning when she came into the lab he would barely say a word to her, and it would be like it never happened.

Never mind she would never forget it was the first time he'd held her hand.

"You alright, ma'am?"

She forced a smile as she looked up into Steve's concerned blue eyes and she nodded.

"Right as rain. Take me home? If I'm going to be moving in here in a couple weeks, I need to update the playlist on my iPod."

"There will be no inferior technology allowed in my tower!" Tony called out as Steve took her hand and she laughed, free and easy, as she stepped outside of Lab Thirteen.


	2. Con: Jarvis Sees All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thanks for your patience in my getting this next chapter out. I returned to school and found out that the institution was set on putting me in the ground...but I fought against them and though we are still at war, we at least negotiated a temporary cease-fire, which has enable me to bring you this lovely bit of...well, I'm not sure what it is, but I hope it's entertaining. I sincerely appreciate all comments, and thank you for continuing on this wacky journey with me! Cheers.]

The problem, Darcy thought, of having an east-facing window in your bedroom, is that if you forget to close the drapes, you will be woken early by the gloriously bright monstrosity most people call the sun.

_Very_ early.

Darcy grumbled as she pushed her tangled hair out of her face and slid off the side of her queen-sized mattress. It was a miracle that the thing had fit in her tiny apartment, but when Jane offered to get her a nice bed as a thanks for following her to New York, Darcy was hard-pressed to refuse, and she currently slept on the comfiest bed in the world with Egyptian cotton sheets and a deep purple comforter that kept her warm when the paltry heating system in her apartment went on the fritz.

"Thank you, Jane," she muttered as she did every morning, a little ritual that was the closest she had come to morning prayers since her Catholic school girl days. She finished the prayer with a stretch and glanced perfunctorily over at the bedside table and the rusted old alarm clock she had saved from her grandfather's room before the estate sale took place. It wasn't the nicest piece in the world --which was probably why her mother had let her keep the thing in the first place-- and she sometimes forgot to wind the thing as she was supposed to every day, but the obnoxious clang of the twin bells was often the only thing that had been able to wake her in high school, before Cordelia and five am feedings were born, and, when she _did_ remember to close the drapes in the room, it was the only thing that got her up with enough time for breakfast before she dashed off to work.

Her stomach grumbled in that moment and she laughed a little before frowning and rubbing at her still sleep-dazed eyes. There was no way it could be anywhere close to three-fifteen, on either side, she thought, and she picked up her glasses from beside it, just in case. Either she was seeing things so early in the morning, or she had forgotten to wind the clock yesterday, and though Darcy wasn't exactly superstitious, she had a feeling this didn't bode well for her day today.

"Son of a bitch," she sighed and riffled under her pillow for her cell phone. And then cursed again when she couldn't find it. She had probably put it on the table with her keys when she got back home last night, and then forgotten all about it before she fell into bed. A smirk started as she looked down at herself and saw that she had only removed her pants before she did so, as she still wore the Rolling Stones t-shirt and the mismatched socks she had put on yesterday after changing out of her 'lab assistant' get-up as she called it.

"You're beautiful babe, and don't you forget it," she told herself and then went still.

Funny, but it sounded like someone was in her kitchen. Which was ridiculous, considering that Jane was the only one with a spare key and if she was by any chance up this early, it was probably because she stayed up all night scribbling equations. Darcy wasn't sure if it was that whole 'love is in the air' thing with Mother Nature and mating seasons or what, but apparently there was something about springtime that got the astrophysicist's brain in a twist and she had learned to stay out of Jane's way these last few weeks, if she wanted to live.

_Girl needs to fix that Einstein-Rosen thing and get laid_ , she thought, though not uncharitably.

Since Jane was out, though, that only left intruders, and she opened the top drawer of her bedside table and pulled out the taser from where she had stored it the night before. A few people had teased her about it, never mind that she was in New York where people looked the other way when you got mugged, and a humorless smirk settled on her lips as she thought of saying 'I told you so' to a select few SHIELD agents when she regaled them with stories of how she had single-handedly taken down a burglar.

She didn't bother moving slowly toward the door; the noise in the kitchen had grown and she doubted whoever was ransacking her apartment would even hear if she happened to accidentally trip over the shoes that were always scattered across the floor. For only having six pairs --which she had used to think was a lot until she met Pepper Potts and realized that Tony's beautiful assistant/lover didn't wear the same shoes twice in a _month_ \-- she certainly managed to make a mess, often losing half of a pair for days on end before it showed up under the bed or in the bathroom or stuck in the sofa cushions.

Darcy managed _not_ to trip as she turned the knob of her door as silently as she could and then jumped out of the room with a loud shout.

And nearly fell on her ass as her mother turned from the kitchen counter to smile widely at her.

"Mimi?" she gaped, and then shook her head. "I mean, Mom, what are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the older woman said, tucking a strand of obviously dyed-red hair behind her ear, and gestured behind her at the large pile of pancakes on the countertop. "I'm making breakfast for the birthday girl. Come, help me toss together a fruit salad, would you?"

"A fruit salad?" Darcy frowned, glancing between the fridge and the pile of pancakes. "I don't have any fruit. And Cordi doesn't like pancakes, Mom, remember?"

"Cordi?"

"Yes, I--" It struck her then, and she grinned. She had been dreaming of seeing her favorite girl again, but had never thought it would be so soon. And especially not for such a special occasion as today. _A dream is a wish_ , she thought idly, her smile stretching wide as she glanced around the apartment looking for a pair of turquoise eyes and the cutest dimple ever. "You mean she's here?" And then she frowned again. "Mom, you shouldn't take her out of school. Especially not midweek. Though I appreciate the surprise and all, but--"

"Momma, I'm bored," an unfamiliar voice said behind Darcy and she twitched in that direction before it went on, "And the bathroom is dirty."

"Well, excuse me for not having time to--" She stopped as the other figure entered her view. "Who are you?"

The pretty little blonde rolled her eyes and twisted a curl around her finger in a clearly practiced move of exasperated boredom and sighed.

"Very funny, Darcy. Momma, Darcy's being rude again."

"Honestly, you two," her mother laughed and wiped her hands on an obnoxiously bright pink apron Darcy had somehow missed a moment before, and came over to put an arm around each of them. "You'd think you were on opposing teams at the Olympics rather than sisters."

" _Sisters_?" Darcy gaped, and the older woman patted her head.

"Yes, dear," she said fondly. "And please, try to curb your rudeness for today? It _is_ our little Michaela's birthday after all."

"Michaela? What are you talking about? What about Cordelia? Where is she?"

The woman frowned for the first time since Darcy had laid eyes on her that morning.

"Darcy..."

"Eww, Momma," the blonde --Michaela?-- grimaced and turned up her nose in disgust. "She's talking about that _thing_ again. Honestly, Darcy, I love you, but you have to get over it already."

"Get over what?"

Darcy felt a headache coming on and a wave of vertigo sent her to the couch before she could fall over.

"Sweetheart," her mother began and then paused as the doorbell rang.  


_Doorbell? What doorbell is that? I don't even have a knocker that works_ , Darcy thought and found herself wishing for a popsicle. She used to have them with Kurtis whenever she was upset or confused or just plain tired about something, and she had continued the tradition with Cordelia when she had ascertained that a whole popsicle would not send the then-six-year-old into a sugar frenzy if she allowed the indulgence.

"Ah, that's right. We have one more guest coming today." She cast a glance at Darcy and frowned in contemplation. "You really should do something with your hair, dear. Michaela, if you wouldn't mind--"

"Braiding duty," the young girl grinned and saluted smartly before sitting beside Darcy and starting to plait her hair. Darcy almost flinched away, but didn't want to risk pulling her hair out if this Michaela decided to be a little rough. "I'll have you beautiful in no time, Darcy. Well, mostly."

She started to react to the insult when her mother opened the door with a flourish and Darcy felt all the blood drain from her face.

"Hiya, toots," the handsome, raven-haired young man nodded to her, his smile lascivious, and she knew she wasn't in a dream. "Long time no see. Hey, after celebrations, maybe we should take a ride in my truck, eh?"

A cold sweat broke out at the thought.

No, Darcy Lewis wasn't in a dream. She was in a nightmare.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Darcy woke with a start, a scream on her lips, and it took her a moment to realize that she was in bed, and her alarm was going off just as loudly and obnoxiously as ever beside her. She nearly knocked the clock over, her hand was shaking so bad, but she got it turned off within seconds, and she just let herself breathe for a minute, in and out, as she tried to push away the dream.

Because that's all it was. Just a horrible, messed up dream, calling on two of her greatest fears. It wasn't real.

She shot a glance toward her open bedroom door and felt the tension ease away at the darkness that permeated the rest of her apartment.

"Nothing to worry about," she sighed in relief, though she still pulled her taser from beneath her pillow as she put on her glasses and stumbled out of bed. That should have been her first clue that she was dreaming, she thought. She had slept with the self-defense weapon under her pillow since she had first received it when she was sixteen. Even when she brought Cordi into her room, she kept up the practice, though she made sure that the young girl was ever aware of the severity of misusing the device, having been given a first-hand demonstration in the form of Darcy tasing Kurtis --she insisted to this day that he had volunteered for the demonstration, though he was just as adamant that his "Yeah" had been of the "You talking to me?" variety and not of the "Sure, you can zap my brains out" one.

A small smile bled through at the memory, and she walked into the kitchen and living area with only the slightest hitch in her step.

It was empty, of course, as it should have been, though Darcy made a beeline to the refrigerator to double check first, that the fruit salad her mother had thought to make wasn't inside, and second, after closing the door, that the blown-up picture of Cordi was still front and center on the metal surface. She traced her fingers along the smooth surface, over the dimple and the nose that scrunched up when she laughed, and felt her heart settle.

It made sense, she thought, that she would have that particular nightmare on this particular morning. Even ten years to the day, she was still haunted by those words the doctor had said while she was still in the vague, blurry state of post-birthing. _She's not breathing._ The three worst words a mother could hear, and yet, in the minutes that followed, it had become clear that they were not meant for her, but were in fact meant for the woman beside her in the joint birthing room. It had been a great laugh, earlier that morning, when it became clear that both mother and daughter were going into labor at the same time, and Jeffrey Lewis had spared no expense in making sure his wife and child were given the best care, including their own private room. Yet now, what Darcy wouldn't give for it to have been an actual private room of her own, first so she wouldn't be terrified by those horrible words, second so that she would not be privy to the anguish of her mother as her own daughter perished before her.

"Happy birthday, sister," she whispered softly and sighed as her glance flickered across the dining table and the phone that lay centered upon it. Though the official records simply said _Baby Lewis_ , her mother had declared her to be named anything from Cleopatra to Jordan to last night's Michaela, and though it was two hours earlier back home, she was probably already waiting by the phone for Darcy to call and commiserate with her over the loss of ten years ago. It wasn't that Darcy could not sympathize; the horror of even just those few minutes when she had thought it was Cordi was enough that she could. But after a dream like that, Darcy wasn't sure she was up for one of Mimi's pity parties.

Her stomach grumbled at that moment, settling the argument and she turned back to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. Health trumped unpleasant conversations any day and apparently she was hungry.

Darcy turned on the electric stove and started humming softly to herself as she retrieved the pan from the drying rack and started to make breakfast.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"Having a rough day, dollface?"

Darcy screamed loud enough to wake the dead, and dropped the files in her hands, littering the floor with papers about green fluorescent proteins and hydrocarbon fragments as Clint bent over in laughter.

"God _damn_ it, Clint!" she yelled, screaming once more for good measure as she knelt to gather the papers together. "And I just put these in order," she moaned, trying to remember which system she was using today. When she first arrived, she had filed everything by the project start-date, the way it had seemed everything else was ordered in Dr Banner's lab. After finally meeting him, he had muttered something about wondering who was doing all that work and how they had known to do it like that --as if it was really that hard-- and she had kept up with it. Lately, though, Darcy had been changing things up, filing alphabetically, or by the name of the scientist who had first discovered whatever element or algorithm he was working on, or once, by the color of the manila folders in which Banner had placed his research. It wasn't that she was trying to be malicious or confusing; she just wanted a reaction out of him.

Despite the flowers he had brought her upon their first official meeting, he was cold, stand-offish and just plain awkward around her. He barely spoke to her, even when it was clear he wanted something from her, and it was like squeezing water from a rock trying to get a thank you out of the man when she made his coffee with two sugars and hazelnut creamer, just the way she knew he liked it. It was frustrating as all get-out, and Darcy had been trying to break him for some time now without success. For Christ's sake, the first time she had switched up his filing system, he had stared at the now-filed-by-success-rate collection for about three minutes before he went to exactly the file he needed. The man was a freaking genius, and though she didn't necessarily hold that against him, it really pissed her off that he wouldn't even blink at such a change.

"Maybe I should do it by the first word of each report," she murmured, and startled when Clint handed her a sheaf of papers.

"Do what by the first word, dollface?"

She glared at him, though she decided she forgave his startling her since he was now on the ground helping her.

"None of your business, Clint. And dollface? Really? Who says that?"

"I do, of course," he shrugged as he helped her to her feet now that everything was collected in a --slightly messy-- pile in her hands.

Darcy raised a brow and shook her head.

"Really."

His grin turned sheepish, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay, no, not really. Though I did use it once on a job with Nat; I was a gangster and she was my girl."

Darcy almost laughed out loud.

"Seriously? And your cover didn't get blown? That is like _beyond_ cheesy, Clint."

"Eh, it was fun," he shrugged. "Though Nat hit me for it afterwards."

"I'll just bet she did," she murmured, and then asked, "So what brought it up again? Don't tell me you're practicing on me, because there is no way I'm a gangster's girl. I mean, please."

"Don't stereotype," he admonished gently and then admitted, "Tony thought you might get a kick out of it."

"Tony," she sighed and leveled him with a look before continuing her previously interrupted walk down the hall. She had to stop in Jane's lab to confirm a meeting with some people from SHIELD tomorrow, and though she could have just called up to the sixteenth floor where her lab was situated, she figured she might as well kill two birds with one stone, having had to go up to retrieve the files in her hands anyway. Though she technically worked for both scientists, she had been spending less and less time in Jane's lab these last few weeks, not just because of her manic sex-deprived state, but because Jane actually had a real assistant now that she had all of SHIELD's resources at her disposal. Darcy didn't begrudge the twenty-three-year-old physics major; Kyle could be a little abrasive --it must be a scientist thing-- but he genuinely cared about the research Jane did, and, more than resentment, he had garnered Darcy's pity from the moment she saw those big blue puppy-dog eyes start mooning over the astrophysicist. The guy had it rough, falling for a woman who was not only taken, but taken by a Norse god. She kind of hoped she was around when Thor came back so she could see the look on Kyle's face when he met the competition.

Her smile flickered at the thought before she frowned, noticing that Clint was keeping pace beside her.

"Was there something you wanted, Clint? Other than to scare me half to death?"

He chuckled and started to put an arm around her shoulder before he noticed how stiff her body was and let it drop. She could tell he wanted to ask what was wrong by the set of his mouth, but she really didn't want to talk about it. Though this was supposed to be a happy day, she had been haunted by that nightmare all morning, and it was only made worse when a SHIELD agent with raven-black hair came to deliver a message for Jane and nearly gave her a heart attack. She had soothed the worst of her anxiety with the knowledge that the man whose vision haunted her had blue eyes and not green, but the resemblance had been uncanny, and Darcy had been more than happy to send him off in the right direction and get back to her filing.

"I just thought I might keep you company. It's almost lunchtime, you know?"

"I'm aware of that, yes," she replied shortly, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's the deal, Clint? You always eat lunch with Natasha."

"She's busy," he shrugged and began, "Tony thought--"

"Tony, again? What, is he spying on me?" she snapped, turning to fully face him, and he took a step back, bright eyes widening in what would have been fear on anyone else but was probably just confusion on the trained assassin.

"Of course not. Tony's got much better things to do than spy on Banner's lab rat."

"I'm his lab _assistant_ , thank you very much," she retorted, though she couldn't help a small smile, and she had a feeling that's what he had been going for.

"Semantics," he shrugged.

"Nonsense," she answered, and frowned again. "So if Tony's not spying on me, then why is he suggesting you eat lunch with me?"

He was quiet a moment before leaning in close and whispering, "Jarvis told him you looked like you needed a friend."

"Jarvis?" she gaped, though her reply was much louder than his explanation and she heard a cool reply almost immediately.

"Yes, Miss Lewis? How may I be of service?"

She darted her gaze up to the ceiling and scowled.

"Jarvis? Are you spying on me?"

"I am privy to all goings on within the vicinity of Stark Tower, Miss Lewis."

"That's not what I asked and you know it, Jarvis."

Clint chuckled beside her and she tapped her low-heeled shoes while she waiting for an answer. It took longer than she would have thought for the normally quick-tongued AI, and Darcy was surprised to hear hesitation and apology in the tone when he finally replied.

"I noticed you did not seem...yourself, this morning, Miss Lewis."

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine, Jarvis," she retorted, wondering if her blush made the lie as obvious as she thought it did when Clint raised a brow at her.

"Your smiling frequency is down to twenty-six percent, Miss Lewis, from the average of seventy-nine."

"My _what_?"

"In colloquial terms, Miss Lewis, you look a little blue."

Darcy didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She had been so affected by her nightmare that even a computer program noticed and was worried about her.

"So you sent Clint to make me feel better?" she hazarded and noticed Clint roll his eyes out of the corner of hers.

"On the contrary, Miss Lewis. I suggested that Mr Stark himself take a break and join you, as he receives a secondary majority of your smiling expression."

"Secondary majority? Is that even a thing?"

"The primary majority of course occurs in Dr Banner's presence."

She blushed to her roots at the calm statement and shook her head.

"First off, I'm pretty sure that's not true. Dr Banner pisses me off more than anybody on the face of this planet."

"That is a nearly impossible to substantiate aggrandizement, Miss Lewis."

"And second," she went on, deciding to ignore the AI for the moment, "if I'm understanding you correctly, you're trying to cheer me up, but failed to get the so-called first- and second-tier cheerleaders to join me, so what, you got me the water boy?"

"Water boy?" Clint blinked at her, and pressed a hand to his heart. "I think I'm wounded"

"Of course not, Miss Lewis. Following your metaphor, Agent Barton would be the third-tier cheerleader."

"See that? I'm in third place. Not too shabby."

"If I was going to give you the water boy, I would have enlisted Director Fury's help."

Darcy laughed out loud at that and grinned widely, while Clint obviously strained to keep a straight face.

"Just for that, Jarvis, I will forgive you for spying on me, and I promise not to tell Fury you said such a thing."

"Thank you, Miss Lewis. You are most kind."

She noted how he didn't deny spying on her, and her smile shifted slightly.

"I do try," she replied lightly, and nodded to Clint. "If you want lunch, you'll have to follow me to Jane's lab first, okay?"

"No problem. I can use the exercise."

She paused, taking in his trim physique, remembering one of Tony's parties where he had nearly single-handedly emptied an entire table of finger foods, and she narrowed her eyes.

"I hate you," she said flatly, and he grinned before gesturing down the hall.

"After you, dollface."

"I _really_ hate you," she muttered to herself, and started walking.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

The third time Jarvis sent someone to be her own personal cheerleader, Darcy knew she was not pulling off the calm, cool exterior she had been hoping for. Even, so, she still had to stop and scowl up at the ceiling, insisting "I'm _fine_ , Jarvis."

"Of course you are, Miss Lewis," the utterly calm AI replied, and she let out a low growl only to tense at the hand on her shoulder. Clint had been able to read the signs, had known, despite her acquiescence to their lunch-date, that she did not want to be touched. Natasha, too, had been able to read the signs when she had joined Darcy in the copy room with the highly suspect excuse of "I thought I should actually learn how these things work. Teach me?" The great Captain America, on the other hand, appeared to think touchy-feely was the way to go, and it was all she could do not to just shrug him off and walk away.

"Agent--Darcy," Steve corrected himself before she could, "I know we're not the closest. I'm not one of your girlfriends. But you can talk to me, if you like. I'm a really good listener, honest."

"I'm sure you are, Cap," she sighed, and then gave a small moan of frustration. "But I would really just like to be left _alone_ with my melancholia. Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Lewis?"

"How can I get you to leave me alone and just let me be?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Miss Lewis. I have not done anything to your person that I can recall."

She narrowed her eyes at him and sighed.

"All right, Jarvis. I give up. I can't hide a thing from you, can I?"

"It would be very difficult to do so, Miss Lewis."

"I'm almost positive you're actively spying on me," she muttered and then glanced at Steve. He still stood beside her, a helpless, yet earnest expression upon his handsome face, and she held out her hand to his. "Okay. It's nearly time for my coffee run, so you can join me for that. However," she clarified when he slowly placed his hand in hers, " _you_ are in charge of transport."

"Uh..."

"I'm getting coffee for six people, Steve, and it is _not_ easy juggling six cups of Starbucks coffee with my purse, let me tell you."

His blue eyes widened in surprise, and he asked, "Uh, doesn't Stark have his own premium coffee or something?"

Before she could answer, Jarvis did so for her.

"Several of the Avengers Initiative have decided to boycott Mr Stark's coffee because he apparently makes too much money as it is."

"And their boycott will help, how? It's not like they pay for it, right?"

Darcy spoke before Jarvis could, and couldn't help the grin along withe her words.

"That's true, Steve, however, I get a little bonus from Clint every time I go out and let it be known that the Avengers prefer Starbucks over all other coffees."

He gaped at her and she laughed out loud.

"Yes, it's ridiculous, but it pisses Tony off to no end, and I've even gotten a little following whenever I stop in, so it's kind of fun," she shrugged.

"And you want me to--I don't think this is a good idea," he began, shaking his head and she sighed.

"Ah, come on, Cap. When's the last time you interacted with the outside world without having to save it?"

"I--"

"It would be most fortuitous if you assisted Miss Lewis, Mr Rogers. Yesterday she nearly lost the entire order after running into Agent Hill upon re-entry to Stark Tower."

"I did _not_ ," she snapped, and then took in a deep breath.

Jarvis probably _wasn't_ baiting her.

Probably.

He just stated things as he saw them.

"Though I would like the help. And if you're worried about being recognized," she went on when he looked to protest again, "you can just say you're my assistant if they ask."

He looked a little nonplussed at the offer, and she feigned a sigh.

"Or I'll just go by myself and sink even further into depression. Who knows? I might even decide to walk into a busy street, I'm so depressed, or maybe--"

"Okay, I'll go with you."

Though she had been mostly joking--depressed as she was today, she would never hurt herself, not with Cordi to think about, and _especially_ not on the girl's birthday--she discovered she was still happy that she had some company for three-block walk, and her smile was genuine as she said, "Thank you, Steve. And Jarvis? Lay off. If I'm not a hundred percent, I promise that I'll get there. We all have off days, okay?"

"Of course, Miss Lewis. Shall I inform Mr Stark of where you are heading, then?"

"Not til I get back, Jarvis," she returned, feeling a little of her sparkle return as she looped an arm through Steve's. "We wouldn't want him pulling an all-stop before the operation's even started, now, would we?"

"No, Miss Lewis. Though might I suggest grabbing a light jacket before you leave? The outside temperature is at a crisp fifty-six degrees Fahrenheit at this moment."

"Sounds delightful," she replied, remembering when she used to have to ask for the Fahrenheit measurement rather than the Celsius the AI clearly preferred to give. "Thanks, Jarvis."

"You're welcome, Miss Lewis. And I shall endeavor, upon your return, to keep my observations to myself. I believe I am running out of cheerleaders anyway."

Darcy laughed out loud, and Steve, despite his long legs, found himself struggling to keep up with the petite brunette as she nearly dragged him down the hall toward the elevators. Darcy still felt remnants of her nightmare hovering over her, and she might have been annoyed with the AI's mothering, but she was determined that she would enjoy the rest of her daughter's birthday, if only so she could regale her with tales of a nosy computer and a shy superhero when they Skyped later that evening.


	3. Pro: Friendship Trumps All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Thank you for all the comments and kudos I've gotten since I've been in absentia. It means a lot to me, when I've been in a slump, to see how much you all still love my writing!! :) I can't guarantee any sort of timing or schedule for the next chapters as I'm in my senior year and I have a LOT on my plate, but I'll work on this when I can. Don't stop reading, and don't stop believing in me!! Cheers.]

"So you're moving tomorrow?"

Mimi's words seemed more a Doomsday announcement than a positive life-change, and Darcy paused before answering. In the last few weeks she had gone back and forth over her situation a dozen times, or more, and yet she always came back to the same conclusion: it just plain made sense, practically, economically, every which way, for her to live in the same place she worked. Did she still have reservations over this decision? Of course she did; but she had made it, and she was sticking to it, come hell or high water...

_Please let this not be hell_ , she thought, and cleared her throat.

"That's right," Darcy nodded, though her mother could not see her on the other side of the phone, and reached behind her for the packing tape. She had only two boxes worth of clothing to put away and then she was done -- _done_!!-- until the movers showed up in the morning. The apartment looked more cluttered than ever, despite the majority of her things being boxed up; she figured it had something to do with her haphazard piling of said boxes. It was like the Leaning Tower of Pisa was being constructed in her living room. It would probably need the stabilization that the real one had needed, but for the moment, Darcy was just relieved that she had been able to pack everything so quickly, and without any help.

It wasn't that she could not have had half of SHIELD helping her out, had she asked. Despite the apparent simplicity of her job, due to her close proximity to the Avengers, she had a relatively high clearance level, and though she hesitated to set a bad example by abusing her authority, she easily recalled once upon a time using her influence to garner dinner reservations at a particularly elegant hotel restaurant when Kurtis came into town a few months prior.

In this instance, however, she found a sort of catharticism in packing up what had been her home these last six months. As crazy and chaotic as her life could sometimes be, painstakingly packing her books, scrubbing the bathroom floor, even wrapping up the projects that Cordi had done in kindergarten and first grade that she just could not bear to get rid of, all these simple domestic tasks helped Darcy to recall how _normal_ she could be. And more than that, there was a simple delight to be found in recalling the origins of the trinkets she was packing.

Like the jewelry music box that plays a selection from Prokofiev's 'Romeo and Juliet;' it had been her first week in New York, and though she had map in hand, she was thoroughly and completely lost. The streets were criss-crossing, the buildings were towering, and though it wasn't Darcy's first time in a big city--she had taken a trip to DC with her eighth grade class, and had been to conferences in Seattle and Denver in her college years--it was her first time doing so alone. After wandering for a few hours, caught between wonder and a fear she refused to admit to aloud, she had passed by an antique shop and been caught by the tarnished bronze harp that sat in the window. She hadn't been able to afford the harp--though SHIELD paid well, she was still paying off school loans, and a seven-hundred-dollar harp she couldn't even play did not figure in to those expenses--but she had discovered a world of magic in that small shop, and the music box was only the first of many treasures she had discovered there these last few months.

Then there was the green and purple mask she wore for Mardi Gras; she had come into work late one day, her hair frizzy, her clothes wrinkled, bemoaning both the marital dispute going on upstairs that had kept her up all night, and the broken dryer in the laundry facilities that kept her clothes looking less than pristine, and then been shocked still as she entered the lab to see gold, purple, and green streamers and beads draped over everything. Dr Banner had only grunted something about " _That maniac upstairs_ ," and left her to sift through the glitter on her desk to find the files she had been working on the day before. Hidden beneath the majority of the streamers was a black velvet box with a note that said _Happy Mardi Gras, D!_ inside which was a bejeweled mask which she had told Tony " _had better damn well not be_ real _emeralds and amethysts, Mr Stark_ ," but wore cheerfully throughout the rest of the day anyway. Darcy had been the only one to give in to the insanity, leaving a few key members of the team (particularly Clint and Natasha) to worry about her mental health in proximity to Tony's influence, but her frizzy hair and wrinkled clothes had ceased to exist once she put the mask on and turned into the Louisiana debutante she imagined the mask would belong to, in a world less crazy than her own, that is.

Or the small green rubber turtle with big googly eyes that squeaked when squeezed. It was just a silly thing, really, just a child's toy, but it had shown up on her desk after one of the Big Guy's appearances, and she treasured it more than the jewels that she was certain Stark had forced upon her even though he claimed he had picked up the ornate mask at a shop a few blocks over.

As if Tony Stark would dare to set foot in some hokey little party store that sold paper ribbons and hole-punch confetti.

She smiled at the absurd notion, and then blinked as her mother said her name.

"Darcy, are you listening to me?"

She shook her head, taping up the box in front of her, and apologized, "Sorry, yeah. I'm just a little distracted with all this packing."

"Well, goodness, Darcy, you work with a bunch of superheroes, can't you just ask them to help you?"

Darcy shut her eyes, and just barely held back her sigh. Though she loved Mimi, she really wished that the woman had a bit more common courtesy bred in her. How her father had stood her world-on-a-silver-platter attitude for so long, she had no idea, but she gave him props for it anyway.

"Just because I work with them doesn't mean they're at my beck and call, Mom. And I'm sure they have better things to do than to help me pack, like, I don't know, _save the world_ , perhaps?"

"Don't be smart with me, young lady."

"Mom."

"Well, really, Darcy. You do so much for them, they should be able to take some time to help you move in to your new place."

"I'm sure they will, Mom. But for today, I'm on my own."

"Well," she huffed out and Darcy almost laughed. Mimi was more dramatic than most women, and though she got on her nerves sometimes, she liked the change in pace from the scientific calm she dealt with every day. Every day when Tony Stark wasn't intruding, that is. "That's gratitude for you, I suppose."

"It's me who should be grateful to _them_ , Mom. I mean, I'm getting a suite of rooms all to myself, free of charge."

"Well, yes. That reminds me, I'm going to need your new address."

Darcy blinked in confusion before asking, "Why on earth do you need my address, Mom?"

"What if I want to send you something, dear?"

"Like you've been sending me things since I moved out," she replied drily, to which Mimi snapped, "Well, I _might_. Come on, sweetheart. I'll write in down in my planner so I don't lose it."

Darcy was skeptic that she would use it anyway, but it didn't matter because she had to admit, "I don't know it."

"Don't--Darcy, how are you supposed to get _any_ mail if you don't know your own address?"

"Geez, Mom. Cut me a break." She had known the address long enough to write it down on her change-of-address forms at the post office the week before, only to forget it as soon as she walked out the door. Especially in New York, knowing a specific address wasn't really that useful in the grand scheme of things. "I know the street corner; what more do I need?"

"Really, dear."

"If you want it so bad, just Google it. I mean, it's Stark Tower. I'm sure there's an address listed somewhere online."

"I suppose that will suffice."

"Yeah, Mom," Darcy grinned, knowing the smile would translate over the phone to peak her ire, but not caring. "Now you make sure you send me something fabulous, you hear?"

"I suppose. Now Darcy, sweetheart, I wondered if you--"

Darcy cut her off as her phone beeped at her, signalling another call. She didn't recognize the number, but she knew the tone of voice Mimi used when she was starting a lecture, and Darcy would rather avoid that if she could.

"Sorry, Mom. I have another call coming in. I'll talk to you later?" She didn't even wait for a reply, knowing Mimi would protest, before she switched lines. "This is Darcy, how can I help you?"

"You can tell my math teacher to give me an A for effort, for starters."

The grin nearly split her face it was so wide, and Darcy sat down on the linen-covered sofa, deciding to take a break for her new caller.

"If you're getting anything less than an A on your own merit, Cordelia, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ground you."

"That's a little harsh," the ten-year-old replied, but Darcy knew the pout in her voice was fake, so she answered in turn, "For as much as you love math, hon, I'd be pretty suspicious if you started getting bad grades."

"Well, of course I won't. I _do_ love math," she admitted, the pout still there, and Darcy almost laughed out loud. If she hadn't known better, she might have doubted her words at the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Numbers had fascinated Cordi, though, since before preschool, even. She would count all her toys, mix them up, and then give each toy the same number, despite being out of order, before she started from one again and changed her sequence. Darcy, who had been taking college algebra courses at the time, had read her math book aloud to the young girl when she was having trouble falling asleep, hoping it would bore the then-four-year-old as much as it bored her, but those turquoise eyes had lit up as she spoke, and after several weeks of Cordi staying up too late to watch her do math homework, Darcy switched to reading her poli-sci books out loud. The result was almost instantaneous; Cordi fell asleep within five minutes, and though Darcy could admit she rather enjoyed the companionship during that god-awful algebra homework, she much preferred a healthy, sleeping child. That child was now trying to make a case against her love of math. "It's really easy, though, since I'm not in the advanced class this term, and I just _know_ that if you talk to the teacher, then I can just relax and work on the great American novel instead."

"Oh, I see," Darcy nodded and grinned. Cordi had recently finished reading _The Great Gilly Hopkins_ , and though she had loved the novel, she was certain that she could do better. She had been bouncing ideas off of her for the last two weeks, and Darcy was almost convinced that she _would_ be better than Ms Paterson. And since she was just in the regular math classes --that had been a source of some contention between Darcy and Mimi, who had insisted that Cordi needed the art class she was taking more than the advanced math that would have conflicted with it since the teacher was only there for two hours a day-- she could probably get away with half-assing it for part of the class and then working on her novel for the remainder of that time. Rather than suggest such an inconsistent practice, however, Darcy had to insist that her regular schooling take precedence, no matter how the young girl was grating under the restriction. She offered instead, "Get an A in your math class, and I'll see about finding a writing program to enroll you in, okay?"

She could almost see the girl bouncing as she asked excitedly, "Really? Really, _really_?"

"Yes, really," Darcy laughed before she glanced down at her watch and frowned. "What time is it there? Aren't you at school right now? And whose phone is this, by the way?"

The girl sighed before responding matter-of-factly, "It's a quarter past eleven, I'm on my lunch break, and I borrowed Missy's phone."

"Missy," she frowned a moment, trying to place a face with the name. "That would be the girl that likes to draw, yes?"

"That's right."

"And she has a cellphone, at her age?"

"Her parents are divorced. They need to get ahold of her when she's with the other, I guess."

"Ouch," Darcy winced and Cordi hummed a little note of sympathy. Though they were fully grown when things between them had fallen apart, Olive and Darcy had been front and center of their parents' divorce, due to their at-home status. Kurtis had just entered high school, so he felt the worst of it, she knew. She thanked God every day that Cordi had been too young to remember the epic fights Mimi and their dad had had. "Well, you make sure to thank her properly for letting you borrow her phone, okay?"

"Duh, Okaa-san."

Darcy laughed out loud at the term; since the day before her birthday, she had called her by the Japanese title, even when she could get away with a simple 'Mom,' and Darcy was almost starting to think the term better than its English counterpart.

"I'm just trying to remind you of the rules, hon."

"Yeah, yeah. Rule number two, always say thank you. I got it."

"Good. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this mid-lunch call?"

"You're getting ready to move tomorrow, right?"

"That's true," she nodded, and wondered how she was going to sleep tonight since her mattress was already in the hall. "Big day."

"Mimi said I shouldn't talk to you again until you're all moved it, so I don't distract you."

Darcy went cold and then hot as the words reverberated in his brain, before forcing a smile to her voice as she said gently, "Cord, you can call my anytime. _Anytime_. Day or night, I don't care. I like you as a distraction."

"She's taking away my phone and Skype privileges for the next few days."

"She--"

_Count to ten_ , Darcy told herself as she inhaled sharply.

_One._

The woman was absolutely nuts.

_Two._

What the hell was she thinking, keeping Cordi from talking to her own mother?

_Three._

She was going to get a _hell_ of a talking to after this call, that's for damn sure.

_Four._

Cordi, a distraction? Bullshit. She was--

"Are you counting, Okaa-san?"

Her smile was brittle as she replied, "Yes. I'm on five. And it's not working. That woman--"

"How about I steal Aunt Olive's phone? She'll probably be too drunk to notice."

Darcy choked back a laugh; her older sister was not only loose in her relationships, she was rather loose in her social habits, and Darcy recalled the horror that was karaoke with a bunch of tone-deaf drunks, before she had put her foot down and said she would drop her off and pick her up, but she wasn't coming inside the bar again. Still, though she was uncomfortable with her sister's lifestyle, especially with her proximity to Cordi, she didn't want her daughter thinking she could gossip about the woman freely, and so she added a censuring tone to her voice.

"Cordelia. That is no way to talk about your aunt."

"But it's true. And you know it."

"Be that as it may, you still need to show her respect. What's rule number seven?"

The girl sighed over the phone before answering, "Respect your aunt and uncle, no matter how crazy they are."

"That's right."

She smiled at the thought; she rarely had to remind the girl of that rule concerning her Uncle Kurtis --she simply adored the young man who showered her with presents whenever he visited her. The respect she demanded her to show went easily hand in hand with that adoration. Olive, on the other hand...

"But she's getting _worse_ , Okaa-san."

"Well, then, I will try and talk to her. But I don't want to hear about you sassing her."

"Like she would notice," she muttered and Darcy frowned.

"Cord, hon. I know it's tough being surround by that...by our family. But we have these rules for a reason, remember?"

"To protect the peace and harmony of life," she recited monotonously. "We sound like a Disney film."

"And you love Disney."

"Still...so is that a no to stealing Aunt Olive's phone, then?"

Darcy's frown deepened a moment before a sparkle flashed in her sea green eyes, and she suggested slyly, "Steal Mimi's instead. Use up all of her info downloading cartoons or something."

"Really?"

"Sure," Darcy shrugged. "Though I'm sure you'll have your communication privileges back shortly anyway. But still, go ahead and steal hers. Serve her right."

The young girl laughed, and Darcy felt all the tension and worry about her mother and the move float away as the girl started on about the new book they were reading in her English class.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Steve had been utterly appalled upon his arrival at Darcy's apartment the next morning when he realized that A, her bed was packed away, B, she had slept in a sleeping bag on the floor, and C, she had done all of the packing by herself.

" _You should have called me! I'm strong. I can lift and I can carry and I--_ "

She had laughed at him, reaching up to pat him lightly on the cheek before assuring him that it hadn't been a problem. She was small, but she was mighty, and really, who needed superpowers to move out of their apartment?

The general consensus was that _she_ did, as Tony, who had surprised her by showing up at all, considering it was before ten and there was nothing scientific involved in the moving process, nor was there the likelihood of him getting himself in the news, had tried to calculate just how precise she would have had to be to get those piles of boxes leaning like that. Assuming, of course, she had done so on purpose, which she had not, so she just rolled her eyes, and started lugging things out and down to the moving van with Steve pestering her about how she shouldn't carry so much, and _he_ could carry it all if she just told him how to arrange things. It had only taken her one trip of indulging him for him to see what she had already figured out: a man carrying five boxes in one go, even one with as fine a figure as Steve's, was unusual, and people would stop and gawk and wonder, and if he wasn't careful, Tony might get his five minutes of fame after all, and then he'd be even more intolerable for at least the next week. Tony, who was apparently only there in a supervisory position --" _Someone's gotta keep you kids in line._ "-- had his customary pair of sunglasses on, but as often as he wore them, they wouldn't do a thing to shield him from recognition, and though she could tell it bothered Steve to only carry one box at a time while she carried one as well, keeping him from lessening her load, he didn't utter a single complaint the rest of the morning.

And now they were just packing up the bedframe, which Tony had decided to help with, since it was the last to go in the van after the saggy old couch and a desk that had probably seen better days as well, and for the first time that morning, Darcy wondered where the rest of the team was.

"Agents Barton and Romanoff are assisting in the final clean-up of your new apartment," Steve said, maneuvering his end of the frame easily into the truck as Tony breathed heavily, slightly winded, though he wouldn't admit it, by the haul down the stairs.

He added a glare to the heavy breathing and rolled his eyes in contempt.

"I told those idiots that everything was in order, but Hawkeye apparently doesn't trust my cleaning robots."

Darcy raised a brow and couldn't help a smile as she asked, "You have cleaning robots?"

"I was bored last night," he shrugged, and grunted as he shoved the last bit of the frame into the truck. "Damn, moving sucks. This is why we hire professionals, D."

"As if you're not perfectly capable," she retorted lightly, before frowning. "You made new robots last night? Just for cleaning?"

"I told you, I was bored. And of _course_ I'm capable. I'm freaking Iron Man."

"You might want to lower your voice, Stark," Steve warned softly as he leapt down from the truck, landing lightly on his feet before turning and pulling down the steel door. Tony and Darcy glanced around to see a couple on the corner staring at the group with considering frowns upon their faces, and Darcy looped her arm through Tony's to pull him around the truck to the driver's side. He and Steve had been dropped off by Happy earlier, and he had demanded to drive the van once he realized that Happy would be working with Pepper the rest of the day. Steve, who despite knowing how to handle any number of vehicles was still more comfortable walking, did not complain, and Darcy was happy to have any excuse to rest before she had to unpack.

"Yeah, yeah, you're freaking Iron Man," she muttered as she opened the door and jumped in, pulling him along with her so she was in the center seat and he was in the driver's. "So you shouldn't complain about a little moving."

"But I had to get up early."

"So I should have hired professionals because what, you didn't get your beauty sleep?"

He scowled at her a minute before a grin crossed his face, and he started the engine as Steve hopped in the passenger side.

"You're feisty this morning, D. I like it."

"Since I'm sure you meant that as a compliment, I'm going to say thank you."

"You're welcome," he nodded, and eased the van smoothly into traffic. Tony Stark may have been pampered, but he drove like a pro, no matter if it was a stock car or a fourteen-foot truck, and Darcy admitted a grudging respect for his prowess. The man wasn't an idiot, as much as he acted like one, and she really was grateful for his help, and so she said so.

"Thanks, too, for coming out here. And for the apartment at the tower. It means a lot."

"Hell, you're practically one of the guys," he shrugged. "You shouldn't have to walk six blocks to hang out with us."

"It's five and a half," she corrected, but she was smiling now and she relaxed back in her seat. "Though now you mention it, I'm probably going to have to buy a treadmill or something to make up for that."

"I can have one brought up to your apartment, no problem."

"Tony..."

There was a warning tone to her voice that wasn't often heard, but both Tony and Steve knew what it meant. Darcy didn't like any favors, had accepted the offer of the apartment after much duress and discussions of the pros and cons --the real ones, not the silly things like her iPod or an endless supply of world-class coffee, when she wasn't out buying Starbucks, that is-- and any more special favors might tip the scales against those who bestowed them upon her. Tony was brave, though, or perhaps foolhardy, and he sent her a censuring look in return.

"D. You've been working here six months. Jane swears by you, the blonde lightning prince calls you his Shield Babe--"

"Shield _Sister_ ," she said, but laughed as he went on.

"The twin assassins think you're amazing, and the Big Guy loves you. I think you've earned yourself a couple of bonuses, and a treadmill is nothing in comparison."

She'd stilled at the mention of Dr Banner's alter ego --she was certain he hadn't meant the man himself-- but breathed easy as he finished.

"I'm keeping track of all the nice things you do for me, Tony."

" _Nice_?" He shot a glare her direction before driving into the underground parking garage beneath the tower. "I'm not nice, D. I just give credit where credit is due. How the hell else do you think the Captain and I get along?"

She and Steve both laughed at that, but Darcy was determined to get her position clear when Tony put the van in park and jumped out, leaving her glaring at the empty space he had just occupied.

"You really should just say thank you, Darcy," Steve said softly from beside her, and she barely managed to mask her surprise as she turned back to him. He rarely, if ever, called her by her first name, and that   
he did now made her feel off-balanced and a little confused. "You're more help than you know. Sure, people like Stark and Fury give you a hard time, maybe make you wonder what you're even doing here in the first place," he laughed softly at that, and she wondered if he was talking about her or himself when he went on, "But you have a purpose here. And both SHIELD and the Avengers wouldn't be the same without you, Darcy."

She took a slow breath as she tried to keep her eyes from watering, opening her mouth to say something that would surely come out sentimental and sappy and over-the-top, when her train of thought was jolted by a pounding on the passenger side door.

"You two gonna help unload this thing or should we leave you to your little love fest?"

Darcy blushed and scowled even as Clint grinned through the window at them, and she slid out the open driver's door before he could say anything else that might make her want to slap him. She wasn't sure he was so safe anyway, considering the colors that Steve was turning, and though she might have wanted a bit of a show, she would honestly rather get all the lifting and carrying out of the way before anything else happened. She still had a last meeting with her super back at the old apartment to make sure there weren't any last-minute things she had left behind, or damages that she would have to pay for --she shuddered at the thought-- before turning in her key. The fast this was done, the faster she could get that done.

She reached the back of the moving van to find a rather eclectic collection of workers. Tony was directing Natasha and Jane's assistant Kyle with the bedframe, and Darcy paused a moment, wondering how she could be that strong and still look as thin and lithe as Natasha did before she grabbed a corner beside Kyle and smiled. Clint and Steve came around the corner, bickering good-naturedly, and Jane already had one of the smaller boxes in her arms as she walked to the garage's elevator. A few extra SHIELD agents were pulling her sofa off the truck, long-suffering expressions on their face, and Darcy wondered who had threatened them into helping out.

"Here's to moving day, huh?" she asked Kyle and then laughed out loud.

The biggest pro of all was clear.

She wasn't just surrounded by superheroes and genius scientists.

She was surrounded by friends.


	4. Con: The Iron Man Is Not Immune to the Avian Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your support. I hope you keep reading, and that you enjoy what happens next on this crazy journey we're on.  
> Cheers.

One more trip.

That's all it would take, and Darcy would be officially moved in to Stark Tower.

Well, official, but for the unpacking.

Though it was the last trip, there were actually three boxes, and Tony had delegated Clint to help her with two of them, and he was keeping up a running stream of hitman jokes as they walked down the hall to her suite of rooms.

"So the hitman took two cartridges from his bag and loaded the rifle. 'Where do you want me to hit the man?' he says and the exec says 'Blow his nuts off!' 'How 'bout the woman?' the guy asks and the exec says 'In the mouth. She never shuts up anyway.' So the hitman raises his rifle, takes careful aim, clicks off the safety, but then he pauses and chuckles. "Mister," he says, "I think I'm gonna be able to save you ten thousand dollars.'"

Darcy blinked before scowling, and debated dropping the box in her hands so she could slap Clint upside the head.

"You're disgusting."

"What?" he grinned. "It's just a joke."

"Ha-ha," she said drily, and pushed open the door to her new apartment. The doors of the private suites worked on a recognition system; Tony had encoded this one with her DNA, though she hesitated to ask where or how he had acquired it, though for today, he had given Jarvis the go-ahead to leave the door open so everything could be moved in without necessarily needing Darcy to open the door every time.

The lay-out was fairly simple, considering the size. The door opened to a large living area, to the right of which lay a full-sized kitchen and a laundry room. To the left was an office almost as big as the living area, and at the rear were two doors, one to a so-called master bedroom complete with en suite bathroom, the second to a slightly smaller room that Tony told her was a second bedroom. She had called him ridiculous when he showed her the floor plans, but a secret part of her started wondering what the likelihood of bringing Cordi here was.

_Crazy, that's what it was._

"Damn, dollface. Why do you have so much junk?"

Darcy blinked, broken from her reverie, and sent a glare Clint's direction. Though she had thought the same herself on more than one occasion, she took affront at his saying so.

"It's not _junk_ , Clint. It's my life."

And it was covering over half of the living area, though it didn't look as bad as Clint made it out to be, being mostly in boxes still.

"Yeah, yeah. And this is the last of it?" he asked, putting his boxes on the pile nearest to him and letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"This is the last of it," she confirmed, putting her own down beside his.

"Well, the worst of it is over, then."

"Yeah, for you," she replied, thinking of the massive undertaking that unpacking was going to be. It was for the best, though. She was moving up in the world, and if that meant moving literally to a new home, then she was up for the job.

"Well, hey, dollface, if you want help, I'm sure the good Captain would be up for the job, I mean, considering that little moment you two were having in the van."

Her eyes narrowed before she shook her head.

"Don't be ridiculous. Steve's a nice guy, and if I asked, he probably _would_ help me out. But he's just a friend."

"Of course," he nodded, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes that she didn't trust. "Steve's just a friend, and I'm Santa Claus."

"Clint--"

"And hey, if he says no, you can always ask your new neighbor to help you out instead."

"New neighbor? What are you--" she broke off and stepped back, shaking her head vehemently. "No. _No. Nonono_ , that is _not_ cool. Tony promised me--"

_"You're getting the best room in the tower, D. Seriously, you're going to love it."_

"Oh, I am, am I?" she growled, and pushed past a grinning Clint and out the door into the hall. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Lewis."

The response was so quick, she just knew he had been watching and listening to her, spying on her _yet again_ , and she took a breath so she wouldn't blow up at the AI.

"Give me a twenty on Tony," she demanded instead.

"Mr Stark has graciously offered to return the moving van to the moving company."

"And I'll bet he used those exact words," she growled, and stalked off down the hall.

"Hey, dollface, where are you going?"

She slanted a glance toward Clint as he caught up to her side, and shook her head.

"Back to my apartment. I need to return my key to the super."

"Okay," he nodded slowly and asked hesitantly, "Would you like some company?"

"What, so I can distract myself from how I'm going to kill Tony when he returns?"

"Well, there is that," he conceded, but she went on before he could.

"Or is it so you can tell me another stupid hitman joke?"

"Hey," he began, affronted. "Those jokes are classic." He paused before saying softly, "Don't take your bad mood out on me, dollface. I didn't plan this."

"Though I bet you encouraged it, didn't you?" she asked point blank, and she took his sudden silence for agreement. "Damn it, Clint. You and Tony should start minding your own business."

"But that would be boring, don't you think?"

She huffed out a laugh, and after only a second's hesitation, took the arm he offered.

"You'd think that guys like you could find a better hobby than to mess with my nonexistent love-life."

"Nonexistent? Please. You've got two of the greatest superheroes alive mooning after you."

Darcy stopped and stared at him. There was no mischief in his expression, no sign of trickery in his eyes. The man was, for once, completely serious. Still, she shook her head.

"First, you are crazy. I don't have _one_ superhero after me, let alone _two_. And second, are you _seriously_ trying to have a girl-talk with me?"

He flushed and laughed, his expression immediately lighter, and shrugged.

"Why not? I've been with Nat long enough, I think I've got a handle on it."

"Sure you do."

"No, seriously. Just ask Nat, I'm good at this. I can talk about hair and dresses, and if she's in a good mood, she'll even let me paint her nails for her."

Darcy laughed and raised a brow. She couldn't imagine _either_ of the trained assassins with a nail brush in hand, let alone imagine Clint doing it for Natasha. And yet, stranger things had happened.

"You're kidding."

"No, I--shit. You're going to tell people I said that, aren't you?"

She grinned and continued walking, pulling him along beside her.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. So who are these two superheroes that are supposedly 'mooning' after me?"

"Nah-ah," he shook his head. "First rule of girl talk is give and take. You want me to dish, you have to dish first."

"I thought you knew everything, Clint," she teased. "I mean, what with the whole, 'You may not see me, but I'll see you,' bit."

"Of course I do," he retorted loftily. "But that doesn't mean I want to do all the talking myself."

"Of course," she grinned. "So what do you already know that I should confirm for you, then?"

He paused before grinning down at her, blue eyes flashing with humor, and shook his head.

"Smart ass."

"Now, Clint, is that any way to talk to one of the girls?"

His grin only grew, and though Darcy still spared a thought for the suffering she was going to make Tony go through for putting her next door to Dr Banner, she managed to keep up a proper 'girl talk' as she and Clint walked together back to her old apartment.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Clint had insisted on lunch after their errand was over, and so Darcy found herself sitting in a small cafe tucked between a dry-cleaner and a pawnshop, eating the most delicious roast beef and swiss on rye that she had ever tasted, and listening to Clint complaining about Natasha's schedule.

"I mean, I get that she's the best of the best, but seriously, we hardly ever see each other these days. It's like, hey, Fury, go pick on someone else and leave us alone for once."

She had to hand it to the man; he really _was_ good at girl talk. He was almost too good, she thought, and smothered a smile as she wondered what he might say if she suggested that he was the girl in the relationship between him and Natasha. Though she was still unclear of what that relationship was, and so she nodded sympathetically in response.

"He _is_ a bit of a hard-ass, isn't he?" A shadow of a grin crossed his face as she continued, "But, Clint, if you miss her, why aren't you hanging out with her instead of me? She just got back from a mission yesterday, didn't she?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "But Nat needs a couple of days to cool down afterwards. If Fury hasn't sent her anywhere else by then, she'll be hanging around again by Tuesday."

Darcy smiled, nodded, even as she thought of the friendly smiles she and the female assassin had shared while unloading the moving van. That was her still needing a cool down? She didn't dispute it; the way she heard it, Natasha and Clint had been attached at the hip from even before they had fallen onto SHIELD's radar. He probably knew the woman better than anyone else on earth.

"So I'm your consolation prize, then?" she asked with a grin, and he frowned before shrugging.

"Don't pull me into an argument, dollface. Trust me when I say you'll lose."

"Ah, how little you know me, Agent Barton," she teased, and he scoffed.

"I know plenty."

"Yeah? Like how a certain Star-Spangled Man with the Plan is mooning after me?"

"You think I'm kidding," he shook his head, "But I'm not. That boy--"

"He's older than you, Clint."

"--is head over heels for you."

"So you said earlier," she nodded, referring to their walk over to the apartment. "But I don't see it. He's just a nice guy. The first friend I made here, after Jane, of course."

"And he talks to you more than any other girl in this joint."

"He's a boy, I'm a girl..." Darcy sighed and rolled her eyes. "We're not kids, Clint. We're adults, and you can't just push us together because of some...some whim."

"What makes you think it's a whim?" he asked casually.

"Please. You're the type that's easily bored. You need excitement or you can't live."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm the type that watches everything from afar and then steps in to give things a little push when they come to a standstill."

"As you apparently think my 'relationship' with Steve has," she said, complete with finger quotes, and he shrugged.

"Among other things," he said simply, and she couldn't help but laugh. The man was so damned confident, there wasn't much point in arguing with him, no matter how wrong he might be. He reminded her faintly of Kurtis when he was making a case for why he should get the car even when he was grounded, and she wondered who would win if the two were to get into a heated discussion. The thought made her smile, lost in images of the perfectly contrite smile that Kurtis liked to use to get his way, with their parents way back when, and now in the courtroom he tended to dominate on a regular basis, and so she jumped when Clint suddenly asked, "Are you gonna finish that sandwich?"

"Hell, yes, I am," she retorted, pulling her plate back when he made to reach for the meal. "Paws off my lunch, Clint. I didn't get any breakfast today."

He blinked at her in surprise and then frowned.

"Didn't you just say you were an adult, Darcy? You have to take care of yourself."

"I do. But I emptied out the fridge last night, and Steve and Tony were there bright and early to load the van, so I figured it could wait."

"Yeah. And that was how many hours ago?"

Darcy blushed, not even needing to glance at her watch to know how long it had been. Long enough that she had given in to Clint's demand for lunch more because she thought she might pass out if she didn't than because he was so persuasive. Clint nodded, as if reading her thoughts, and she bristled in annoyance. Her face was expressive enough, she knew, that he probably _could_ read her thoughts, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

"So I missed one meal," she retorted. "Like you've never missed a meal, or _several_ , on one of your missions."

"Completely different situation, dollface."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Missing meals on a mission is contingent to time and place. Sometimes there's not a chance for food. Sometimes I have to sit in one place for eighteen hours, keeping my bow aimed in one spot. Sometimes I'm undercover as a beggar who wouldn't be able to stop for a cheeseburger no matter how hungry he was. But you better believe," he went on as she blinked at him in surprise, "that when I'm not working, I'm getting my three meals a day."

Darcy frowned; while she'd heard Clint go on about missions before, she had never thought about the logistics of food availability during those missions. She had seen Clint devour an entire buffet line before, so she knew his appetite wasn't small. To think that he sometimes went hungry just for work...

She grinned, then, quick as lightning, and said, "So this morning, I couldn't eat because of work."

His scowl was almost as instant before he laughed.

"Fine. Though you start comparing your work to mine, I might take issue, but I'll give you this."

"Thank you." She took a bite of her sandwich, swallowing, before adding, "And thanks for lunch. I don't have any food back at the tower yet, so I'm not sure what I would have had if left to my own devices."

"No thanks necessary. That's what I'm here for. I feed the body and the soul."

She snorted at the lofty statement and shook her head.

"Yeah, because your so-called 'girl talk' is so soul-filling."

"Sure it is. Doesn't it fill your soul with delight knowing that Captain America has the hots for you?"

Darcy blinked and gave a crooked smile as she said, "Fill my soul with...geez, Clint, girl talk is one thing, I don't need you going all poetic and sentimental on me, too."

"Too far?" he asked, frowning, and then shrugged. "It's a work in progress. I guess I should study with Nat more."

"Study. Right," she nodded, and took another bite of her sandwich before she said something mildly insulting.

"Seriously, though," he went on, "Steve is totally into you."

"That's why he calls me Agent or Ma'am all the time," she rolled her eyes.

"Come on, dollface. You've read his file. He came from a different time, where respect was beaten into you from birth."

"Looks like you missed that beating," she teased, and he threw his hands up in disgust.

"Fine. Don't listen to me. What do I know? I just track down information for a living."

"Among other things," she smiled, parroting his earlier words, and he scowled.

"Yes, among other things..."

"Though I will say that Steve is more believable than Dr Banner," she mumbled, mostly to herself, but Clint's ears were sharp, and his smile returned instantly.

"That _is_ why Tony put you next-door, you know."

"Ugh," she groaned, and leaned back in her chair. "Don't remind me. I still have to figure out how I'm going to murder that man, and I don't like thinking of gore when I'm eating."

His laugh was long and loud, and she glared at him, and settled into finishing her sandwich. She had no misconceptions about getting any help to unpack everything that afternoon, no matter how helpful everyone had been this morning; they all had their work to attend to, and Darcy wasn't selfish enough to take them away from it for an entire day. After all, she had managed to pack everything just fine by herself, hadn't she?

As she took her last bite, Clint starting going on about different methods of torture --never mind she had said _murder_ , he apparently thought she wasn't serious-- and she wondered exactly what kind of girl talk he had with Natasha, what the general progression was, that he had no qualms talking about it in front of her.

"Should we get back, Clint?" she interrupted what she was certain would be a long lecture on Chinese water torture, and he paused as if he had forgotten she was there and then stood and held a hand out to her.

"Sure thing, dollface."

Her eyes narrowed as she rose.

"I'm starting to think you can't remember my name, Clint."

"What ever gave you that idea, dollface?" She barely had a retort formed before she gave up. Now he was just being a smart ass. "So, then, what's next on the agenda, dollface?"

She rolled her eyes at his persistence in annoying her, and replied, "Well, now that I have some fuel in my system, I should probably make a dent in the unpacking process."

He grimaced at that and sighed.

"You're no fun at all."

She paused before asking as seriously as she could, "Would it help if I detoured to murder Tony first? I'll even let you watch."

His grin returned in an instant, and he linked his arm with hers as they exited the café, though not before throwing a couple of bills on the table.

"Want me to give you pointers? Or should I just play the silent observer? Frankly, I can see either as being beneficial."

"Murdering Tony is beneficial?" Darcy asked skeptically, and he shrugged.

"Well, if I give you pointers, I can score some points with Fury."

"And how would giving me pointers do that?" she returned, even more skepticism lacing her voice.

"He's not convinced that I'm an acceptable trainer for new recruits."

"I'll bet," she murmured, thinking of both the hilarity and horror such a situation would entail, but he ignored her and went on.

"But if I can successfully teach a rookie like _you_ , then maybe he'll give me a shot, and I won't have to travel as much."

"But you _love_ to travel," Darcy pointed out and he nodded.

"True. But if I travel less, I'll have more time to spend with beautiful dolls like you."

His grin was genuine, but Darcy had a feeling he was thinking more along the lines of spending more time with Natasha than her. Next 'girl talk' they had, she was going to get it out of him exactly what their relationship was, once and for all.

"Okay," she nodded slowly, deciding to let that wait for another time, "So that's the benefits of giving me pointers. What about the silent observer thing?"

His grin grew, and he shrugged.

"Well, a good show always makes me happy."

She laughed and shook her head.

"You're nuts."

"That, too," he conceded, and then started suggesting several ways they might ambush Tony, apparently on board with the idea despite earlier reticence, and Darcy wondered if being at the tower meant more crazy conversations like this, if she would have any silence at all. Yet, as they walked the short distance back to the tower, she found herself thinking that maybe a little more conversation would not be too bad.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Six hours.

Darcy was pretty sure she should be put in the Guinness' Book of World Records for managing to have an entire apartment unpacked in one afternoon. She was also pretty sure this was some sort of trick and that she had either missed a few boxes (more like several) or Tony had secretly put some of his weird robots on her to help out. Either one was equally likely, she thought, and wondered which one she preferred.

"Damn, D, I was starting to wonder if I'd messed up somewhere in the specs and didn't put in a floor, but lookie here, it exists!"

_Speak of the devil, and he comes_ , she thought, and turned toward him with a carefully blank expression.

"Is there something I can do for you, Mr Stark?"

"Now, now, none of that Mr Stark business. Just Tony is fine."

She took in the smirk at the edge of his lips, the light of childish glee in his eyes, and thought, _Just Tony, my ass_. He was trouble with a capital T, and he was obviously here to cause more. Why else would he be leaning against her door at, what was it, seven at night? Didn't he have a date or something?

"Alright," she sighed, and gestured him in. "What do you want, Stark?"

"Well, we lost the mister," he mused and sauntered in, and she had the image of a sleek jungle cat taking in its prey. Would he appreciate that image or think it insulting? She could never tell with him, and simply waved him over to the couch. "Uh, thanks, but no. That couch should be condemned."

"I love that couch," she retorted, but she couldn't help the smile at the look of horror that accompanied his words. "Though I might be convinced to get it reinforced. I just figured I should move in, first."

"Aha. I guess we can work something out." He pushed the edge of the couch, and grimaced as it creaked. "You sure I can't convince you to get a new one? Something sleeker, a little more modern, perhaps?"

"Something picked out by _you_ , I presume?" she asked dryly, and he grinned.

"Well, if you want my advice--"

"I don't," she interrupted before he went on a tangent --and what was it with these Avengers guys and going on and on about nothing?-- and asked again, "What do you want, Stark?"

"I just wanted to welcome our newest resident to the tower."

"Is that so?" she asked, her skepticism clear, and he nodded.

"Of course. Is everything here to your liking? The bedroom big enough? The bathroom works? What am I saying, of course it does," he laughed, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

Laying it on a little thick, wasn't he? Of course, she would be, too, if she was caught messing with things she shouldn't have been. Still, she would play along, for a moment, anyway.

"Everything's great," she smiled brightly. "In fact, I just finished unpacking. Can I make you some tea? Or coffee? I'm afraid I don't have much else right now; I have to do some grocery shopping."

"Don't tell me you buy Starbucks coffee," he said, glaring, and her smile was absolutely genuine as she replied.

"It tastes pretty great, Stark."

"Sure. Great. I'll have some tea. Maybe," he added with a frown. "What do you have? Not something sissy like chamomile?"

"Chamomile is good for you, you know."

"Yeah. So what do you have?"

She walked over to the kitchen, and turned on the gas stove; she had not had such a nice stove since she lived back home, and she relished the good fortune she was under that let her have it for her own. She brought the kettle over to the sink, filling it three quarters of the way full before placing it on the front burner. She then opened the tin beside the stove, and held it out to Tony, who had followed after.

"Cozy in here, isn't it?"

"Yes, thank you," she smiled, and watched as he perused through the different tea bags inside the tin.

"Peppermint, rose hip, orange blossom...geez, D, it's _all_ sissy stuff."

"Look harder," she said simply, and he narrowed his eyes at her, but kept looking anyway. And then he grinned.

"Aha! Straight black Lipton. Classic."

"You're welcome," she nodded, and took back the tin. "So does that mean you don't take sugar with your tea, either?"

"Eh," he shrugged, "It depends on my mood."

"I'd say a _lot_ depends on your mood, doesn't it?" she muttered, turning back to the stove.

"Come again?"

She only smiled and took a couple of mugs down from the cupboard while Tony made himself comfortable at the built-in bar. She riffled through the rest of the tea before deciding on a black pomegranate that Kurtis had sent her for Christmas; if nothing else, her little brother was good for feeding her exotic tea addiction, and Darcy wondered if she could convince him to send something new as a house-warming present.

"So was it difficult," she began as the kettle heated, "to add on a suite for me, I mean. Only I know that you had the Avengers' suites all planned out when you started fixing the tower after the Invasion," she explained, turning back to him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Please. The word difficult does not exist in my vocabulary." She rolled her eyes in return, as he went on, "And actually, I didn't do much. I already had this space blocked out, I just wasn't sure what I was going to do with it yet. Though before you entered the mix, I was considering adding on another wing to Banner's--" He broke off as her eyes narrowed, and he flushed, and muttered, "Aw, shit."

"So you considered connecting this room to my neighbor's, did you?"

"Darcy--"

"Do you have any idea how much I would like to kill you right now?"

"I vote for not at all," he replied, giving a half laugh, before turning silent at the glare she set upon him, and she wondered what Cordi would say if she told her that the great Tony Stark withered under her gaze.

The kettle started to whistle and she turned off the heat and poured hot water into the mugs, taking the moment to breathe, and to tell herself that as much as he irritated her, as angry as she was at his machinations, she _did_ actually _like_ Tony, and she would probably be upset if she happened to accidentally strangle him to death.

Probably.

She sighed, and turned back, saying, "Explain yourself, Stark."

"I--"

"And make it good, or no telling what I might accidentally slip into your tea."

"Like you have anything," he began, but faltered at her glare. Maybe she _was_ bluffing, but did he really know that? With Tony --with _any_ of these guys, really-- it was best to keep them guessing. "Look, Darcy," he said, "I like you."

"Thank you."

He quirked a grin before continuing seriously, "I mean, I _really_ like you. You're tough, you're pretty smart, too, and you don't take any crap."

"Go on," she said, starting to smile, only to falter as he did so.

"You're also the only girl that seems to get through to Banner."

"So, what, you think being closer to him will what, make him like me?"

Darcy wanted to bite her tongue; if there was anything she could have said that was more revealing of her own feelings, she did not know what it was. Tony only paused a moment, however, before shrugging.

"Well, it's worth a shot. Besides, they say behind every great man is a great woman, and, well, Pepper's all mine, so..."

A short laugh escaped her and she shook her head.

"You are nothing but an old-fashioned misogynist at heart, aren’t you, Stark?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere--"

"And maybe the teeniest bit of a snob?"

"Guilty," he replied before nodding to the tea brewing on the counter. "Are you going to poison me, or can I drink that?"

"...you can drink it," she said slowly, and handed him a mug. "Are you sure you don't want any sugar?"

"Nah, I'm good. So what, exactly, do you have against being neighbors with the man of your dreams?"

Darcy gaped at him, and was glad she had yet to take a drink of her tea, or she might have choked.

"Dr Banner is _not_ the man of my--"

"So you mean I should have put you next-door to the Captain, after all? Damn, Clint was right," he muttered and she struggled not to throw her mug at him.

"Are you insane?"

"Of course. You've got to be in this business."

"Well, stop. And stop talking about my love life with Clint. You two are embarrassing."

"Embarrassing you or us?" he asked cheekily, and she scowled.

"You are a nosy, gossiping old mother-in-law."

"Thank you," he grinned. "Though I think you need a new definition on old, because this guy is totally in his prime."

"Ha."

"So who was right, me or Clint?"

"None of your business, Stark."

"You live in my house," he pointed out, and Darcy took a breath, and counted to ten. He was doing it on purpose, she knew he was, and the more she protested, the more pleasure he would take from this situation. "I mean, Jarvis _does_ tell me everything, you know."

"Oh, really," she muttered darkly, and wondered how long it would take her to learn how to hack into the system and change a few of the AI's protocols.

"Though if you wanted to confide in me right off the bat, we could skip that step."

The smirking grin on his face was enough to set her blood on fire, but she held herself in check as she picked up her tea and sipped at the dark, sweet liquid.

"Finish your tea and get out, Stark."

"What hospitality is this?" he asked in mock offense, and she shook her head.

"Just...just go, Tony. I'm exhausted. It's been a long day, and I'm going to turn in early."

Tony looked at her a moment, his expression strangely serious, before smiling and rising, handing a half-full mug back to Darcy.

"You know, I'm your friend, D."

"Which is why I haven't poisoned you yet," she smiled tightly, and he laughed.

"Yeah, I like you," he grinned, and started toward the door. "If you need anything, let me know, okay?"

"Will do. And Tony?"

He turned back, probably surprised that she had used his first name, and raised a brow in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Her voice was genuine, the smile small, but not full of malice as it had been earlier, and she went on, "I'm really happy to be here."

"And we're happy to have you, D. Have a good night," he said, and, with a rather snarky salute, walked out the door.

"A good night, huh?" Darcy mused, and put Tony's mug in the sink. It was certainly turning out to be _something_ , though she wasn't sure if she would have used the word 'good.' She hadn't been lying when she told Tony she was exhausted. Unpacking everything the way she did, she had a feeling there would be things missing, or rather, misplaced, when she woke in her new home the next morning, but if she had waited, she was afraid she would have never gotten it done. As it was, once she stored all the packing boxes and newspapers and such she had used, she would be completely moved in, and then she could relax.

Though maybe she would wait for the morning to finish that last bit, she thought, as she was suddenly overtaken by a yawn.

She downed the rest of her tea in just a few gulps, relishing the heat the radiated through her body, and, after rinsing it and Tony's mug in the sink, walked to the master bedroom. She had taken ten minutes of the last few hours to make her bed, with a full set of sheets, as her mother had taught her, and it was a joy to see the deep purple comforter turned back and waiting for her to climb in.

"You should take a shower first," she murmured unconsciously and then winced.

Damn her for having that sensible streak that came with motherhood.

_Of course, if you were_ really _sensible, you wouldn't have gotten mixed up with the Avengers_ , a small voice whispered, and she cut it off with a reminder that Thor had, quite literally, fallen right in front of her, and what was she supposed to do, ignore the Norse god that her best friend had fallen in love with?

"Damn," she sighed, and started to strip off the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing that day, only to pause as she heard her phone going off in the living room.

Her fatigue was immediately gone as the strains of The Temptation's _My Girl_ rang out and she dashed back out of her bedroom and snatched the phone from the coffee table, hitting the receive button just before it went to voice mail.

"Cordi, you will never guess who is terrified of me..."


	5. Pro/Con: The Next-Door Neighbor Is Dreamy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay another chapter!! Thank you so much for sticking with me. Especially since the longer I write this, the more I have absolutely no idea where it's going...but the journey is fun, anyway, so let's keep going, shall we? Cheers.

"How did you know you were in love?" Darcy asked as she handed Jane a wrench to adjust the latest in a series of machines that was supposed to facilitate the creation of an Einstein-Rosen bridge. She was on the verge of a break-through, she'd told Darcy, and so she had been at her side on an almost continuous basis for the last three weeks. What that break-through was, she was still at a loss to understand, but when Jane got that wild look in her eyes, nobody questioned her.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up in surprise, and Darcy struggled not to laugh. With her hair up in pigtails and the grease smeared across her nose, she looked like a little kid who had been helping her father fix her car. Knowing Jane, she probably _had_ been that kid, and Darcy cleared her throat before she continued.

"How did you know you were in love?" she asked again. "I mean, you knew Thor for what, three days?"

The older woman blushed a little, but smiled as she shrugged.

"It's crazy, isn't it? But I don't know, I mean, at first, we all thought he was crazy--"

"You're telling me," she murmured.

"But then we sat up all night by the fire just talking and...I don't know. We just clicked."

"Just clicked," she repeated softly, and frowned. It didn't make a lick of sense to her, but though it had been nearly two years since New Mexico, she could still remember the expressions on their faces as the astrophysicist and the Norse god looked at each other, and if that wasn't love, she had no idea what was.

"Yeah...hey, can you hand me that vector graph over there? I want to make sure I'm getting the right measurements here."

Darcy blinked and frowned over at the misshapen pile of papers on the desk.

"That's the one with all the little arrows on it, right?"

"Right."

"Great," she sighed, and rose the sift through the papers until she found the right one. Kyle had taken the last week off to visit his sister and her new baby --and man, had it killed her to look at those pictures he was showing off on his phone and pretend she wasn't missing her own baby-- and Jane had quickly fallen back into her pattern of not filing correctly. Darcy would have filed it herself, but, for once, Jane had been giving her actual manual labor to do, and so the paperwork had fallen to the wayside. If she had been better at managing her time, maybe she could have fit it in, but between helping Jane and making sure that Dr Banner stayed fed in her absence, she was running a little ragged.

That, and she had been called on to deal with _two_ instances of Code Green, and the interactions with the creature were exhausting, even if all she had to do was talk him down. He had taken her hand both times, and the stress that added into the addition of being in the same room as a rage monster was high, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to count those moments as moving forward in whatever relationship they had or not.

Her eyes caught on a brightly-colored arrow, drawing her from her ruminations, and she smiled as she plucked the paper from the mass.

"Is this the one you meant, Jane?"

Warm, amber-hazel eyes lit up and she held out a hand in silent demand. Darcy rolled her eyes as she conceded, and asked, "How close are we?"

"Pretty close," the other woman grinned widely, and started babbling about some astro-something or other that Darcy didn't understand, but she smiled, nevertheless, glad to see her friend this excited about something.

She nodded occasionally to whatever Jane was saying, and thus it took her a moment to realize that the woman had gone silent, and Darcy looked at the woman to see her giving her a skeptical gaze.

"What?" she asked, feeling prickly and defensive at the look, and a small smile formed on Jane's lips.

"So, who is it?"

"Excuse me?"

Had she actually responded to Jane's rambling without realizing it? Was that why she had stopped? Only she rarely did, because she knew from experience that questions didn't make things clearer, but only brought up more questions from the rambling answers given in return.

"Don't play daft, Darcy," Jane chided, still smiling. "Who is it?"

"Who is _who_? And I believe it's 'whom,' actually."

Jane's smile only grew at that, and Darcy frowned in return.

"Darcy," she began, fondness clearly evident in her tone, "you are the most pragmatic, down-to-earth person I have ever met. You can't convince me that you're asking me about love on a whim."

Was that it? she thought faintly, and sighed. Funny how something so inconsequential could break the astrophysicist from her scientific study and bring her back into the land of the sane and mundane.

"And why can't I?" she asked, but she knew Jane was right; they had known each other long enough, it would be impossible for one to fool the other now.

"So, who is he?"

"Jane," she began, feeling more tired than ever, "I really don't want to--"

"Captain America _does_ have a great ass," Jane mused, and Darcy laughed in surprise. True, though her words may be, she hadn't expected the other woman to realize, or even acknowledge that fact. "But despite his looks, he's a _lot_ older than you, Darcy."

"I am not in love with Captain America," she replied with a sigh. "Have you been talking to Clint lately?"

"Hawkeye? No, of course not. He's not really much for science, you know."

Darcy would beg to differ; Clint had given her an entire lecture on what he called 'The Science of Archery,' complete with the proper angles and degrees at which one should aim their arrows, and if she hadn't wanted to learn how to shoot an arrow, she might have begged off. As it was, she had sat through the two-hour lecture without complaint, and now met twice a week after work with the assassin to work on her technique. It was amazing the things she could do after hours now that she lived in the Tower.

"Is that so?" she murmured in response, not wanting to go into the technicalities of it all, and Jane nodded.

"So, not Captain America? And I was already thinking of whether we should go with blue or red accents for your wedding dress so you can match."

"Jane Nelson Foster, are you mad?" she laughed, and gave the smaller woman a little shove. "Whether I'm in love with someone or not, it's a little early to be planning anything, let alone a wedding. God, you're such a romantic."

"Well, I have to plan _something_ while I'm stuck here in the lab. Do you know how many games of MASH I've played when my own equations don't turn out quite right?"

"Sounds...productive," Darcy murmured, trying not to laugh. "So where am I living, how many kids do I have, all that jazz?"

Jane apparently didn't catch on to the fact that she was joking and began listing off on her fingers.

"Well, sixty-six percent of my equations have you in Rio --I know how you've always dreamed of going there someday," she added aside, before continuing, "twenty-seven you end up in Tromsø, and the rest fall between Puente Antiguo and Willowdale--"

"Tromsø? Really?"

"Well, eighty-seven percent of mine ended up with me there, and I didn't want to be lonely..."

"But would you be, really? I mean, you probably ended up with Thor, like, ninety-seven percent of the time, didn't you?"

The scowl on her face was priceless, and Darcy struggled not to laugh as she replied.

"Two percent."

"Oh. Really?"

Her voice cracked on the second word, and she coughed to clear her throat, and set her expression to a simple smile.

"Three hundred games of MASH and only two percent!" she cried, and let her head fall into her hands.

Darcy was grateful that she did so, as she couldn't contain the glee in her expression at that, and she said lightly, "You know, I bet your odds would be better if you kept Thor's name in the same place every time."

"Well, of course, I--" Jane stopped and looked up at her, her face the picture of surprise. "Oh."

The two women stared at each other for a moment, before a smile started at the corner's of Jane's lips, which turned into a giggle, and then suddenly, they were both laughing, draped across each other as they tried not to fall off of their respective chairs, and it was only through sheer luck that the person who found them like that was Tony, whom nobody would believe if he told them that the illustrious Dr Jane Foster and her assistant had gone mental.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"You know, preferring robots to real humans is such a mad scientist thing to do," Darcy began conversationally, hoping that her boss would spare her a glance, but no, Dr Banner was just as enchanted with the tiny robot Tony had made the other day as he had been when it first showed up. It looked a bit like EVE from WALL*E, and floated around like it, too, on some sort of weird jet-propulsion thing similar to that of the Iron Man suits, and Darcy had fallen in love with it immediately.

Of course, with a couple of super-scientists in the lab, the lowly assistant wasn't given much leave to play with the thing --though Tony had magnanimously allowed her to name it Eva, either not knowing, or not caring about the reference she was making-- and so, the few times she had been in Dr Banner's lab this week, she had been forced to sit on the sidelines while the man played with his new toy.

_What is it with boys and their toys?_

"Mhmm," he murmured, in response to her question, and she sighed in frustration.

She had hoped, after holding her hand as the Hulk three times -- _three times!_ \-- that the man would let loose a little, relax around her, at least to the point where they could have a real conversation that involved more than him asking where his coffee was and her responding that it was, like always, by the small lab table. But, no, he was stubborn as ever, and barely even looked her in the eye when she walked through the door, and she was about sick of it.

_Maybe I should give up and go for Steve after all_ , she thought, thinking that if even Jane thought they should be together, then who was she to disappoint?

Except she didn't love Steve, damn it.

She loved Bruce Banner.

Or she thought she did.

How else could she explain the annoyance she felt whenever he avoided her gaze, the way her heart raced when he spoke, how she had to be extra careful to pay attention around him or she would end up staring dreamily at those dark curls and wonder what it would be like to run her fingers through them?

_God, you're a sap_ , she sighed, and wondered if there was a cure for this.

Tony would probably whip something up if she asked, though there was no telling if it would actually work or if it would be another weird aphrodisiac (she shuddered as she recalled the third week of her employment, and shook off the memories, not because they were so terrible, but because Natasha would come into her room at night and murder her while she slept if she didn't). Jane might try, if she asked --though she knew now, after today, that she had her heart set on an Avengers wedding, much as she pretended it was just a silly game-- but she wasn't that kind of scientist. She was all about stars and wormholes, and an anti-love potion did not fall under either of those categories.

Which left Dr Banner himself, and she would die before she asked him to mix up something so she could get over her ridiculous infatuation with him.

Not that being infatuated with him had done any good for her anyway. She didn't need to be a genius scientist to know that when a man avoided her as much as he did, he clearly wasn't interested.

"Maybe I should become a lesbian," she murmured, and then jolted as something crashed behind her.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Bruce dropped the flask in his hand and then cursed as it crashed into a thousand pieces on the tile floor. He supposed he should be grateful there was nothing in the glass container --though it would not be the first time he had melted a hole in the floor-- but he could not afford the distraction that cleaning up was.

And speaking of distractions--

"Dr Banner, are you okay?" He stilled as she grabbed his hand and could not find a will to do otherwise when she demanded, "Hey. Look at me."

Though her features were tense with concern, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he found himself sinking into those pale jade orbs until her words brought him back.

"Oh, good. Your eyes are still brown. I thought you might have triggered something."

He jerked his hand back; of course, she was only there if the Big Guy came out. She didn't really care.

"I-I'm fine," he replied gruffly. "I just lost my grip for a moment."

"Okay," she nodded slowly, her expression skeptic, before she went on, "Well, I'll just find a dust pan and--"

"Why would you want to be a lesbian?"

Bruce cursed himself again, as her eyes widened in surprise and he felt himself turning red. Of all times he could lose his filter, it had to be in front of her.

"I'm--" _sorry_ , he thought, but the thought never gained breathe as Darcy grinned, eyes sparkling like stars, and his heart stopped a moment at the sight.

"So you _do_ pay attention to me."

"I--no." He blushed as she laughed, and cursed himself for a fool. What was he, in middle school? "I mean, of course I do. You're my assistant, and I--"

"Completely ignore me on a regular basis," she finished for him, though there was no bitterness in her words, only a touch of resigned sadness in those beautiful green eyes, and he cursed himself again.

"Miss Lewis--"

"You know you can call me Darcy," she said softly, and he blinked and tried not to fall under the spell her eyes were casting.

What was wrong with him? He had been so good at pushing all awareness of her aside, and now? He couldn't look away.

"Darcy," he began, and then stopped.

What had he been going to say?

"Cat got your tongue?" she grinned, and he blushed again. "But I suppose this is a step up, anyway. Let me get that dustpan, and I'll be back to continue our monosyllabic conversation?"

He watched her float across the room, watching as the swirling black skirt she wore spun and danced with every movement, and then frowned as her words repeated in her head.

"Darcy is two syllables."

"Right you are, Dr Banner," she replied, her words lilting as she found her prize. "But _I_ am only one."

She turned back to face him fully, dustpan in hand, a quirky grin on her lips, and he found his throat suddenly dry, and he swallowed harshly. He had overheard conversations between Darcy and Tony --hell, he had _eavesdropped_ on conversations-- and he knew she could be charming and silly and fun, but he had ignored all that, pushed it aside, because he couldn't afford any distractions...or so he told himself. If he was being perfectly honest, he was afraid that if he let himself be distracted by Darcy and all her charms, the stupid crush he had on her would blossom into something more, which would in turn lead to heartache and pain, and he would run back to Kolkata before he subjected his young, beautiful assistant to such terrible things.

It was bad enough, _more_ than bad enough, that she was subject to the Other Guy's ministrations as often as she was. He may have been a fool, but he was not an idiot, and he knew exactly why the Hulk calmed down in her presence. But if he let that reasoning color everything else, then he would be absolutely useless in the lab, and utterly hopeless in the face of that damned smile of hers.

_Hell, you're already hopeless_ , he thought as she returned to his side and started brushing the broken glass into the blue dustpan she held.

He started to reach out to her, to do he knew not what, when a curious chirping sounded from beside him, and he stilled before letting his hand drop back to his side.

"Yes, Eva, the big scary doctor made a mess, but don't you worry your pretty little head. Auntie Darcy is going to clean up after him."

He chuckled at that, and glanced down at the shiny red robot whirring excitedly at his side. He was really going to have to have a talk with Tony about the existence of other colors on the spectrum, but he quite enjoyed the little thing; more than that, he enjoyed the way Darcy's eyes lit up whenever she saw it, and that she had given it the name Eva --he could fall in love with her, just for that, he thought.

_Love?_

He stilled at the thought, and then tensed as a loud voice intruded.

_HULK LOVE DARCY ALREADY. WHY IS BANNER SO STUPID?_

"I'm not stupid," he muttered, and then jumped as Darcy looked up at him.

"What was that?"

"Ah, nothing."

Her eyes said she didn't believe him, but she only nodded as she rose and moved to the waste bin designated for glass.

"So, Dr Banner," she began, and he listened to the sound of her voice melding with the tinkling of glass as it fell into the bin, "now that you're talking to me--"

"I talk to you," he said brusquely, and she laughed.

"Let me rephrase that. Now that you're _conversing_ with me, I was wondering..."

Her voice petered off and he felt a sudden urge to drag the words out of her himself. He may not feel comfortable talking with her, but the sound of her voice was calming, soothing, and now that it had started, it made him anxious that she stopped.

"Would you be my date to Thor's Welcome Back party?" If he had been holding another flask, it would have joined its brother as trash. As it was, he merely choked on his next breath, and started coughing harshly, bent over as he tried to breath easy once more. "Oh, geez. I'm sorry, are you okay?" She was suddenly standing next to him, patting him on the back, and he didn't know if that was making it better or worse, when she went on, "Was that too fast? How about you just save me a dance, then? And we'll work our way up?"

He managed a gasping breath and asked, "What?"

"At Thor's party? Will you dance with me?"

"I-- _what_?"

She laughed, and, seeing that he was no longer dying, stepped back. He would deny to his dying day that he missed the closeness...but damn it all, he missed it.

"Thor's party. Come on, you can't tell me Stark doesn't have something grandiose and obnoxious and yet somehow very tasteful planned out for when Thor finally gets here."

He stared at her a moment, and wondered how she had managed to bring the great Tony Stark into definition so clearly.

"And yet somehow very tasteful," he repeated, and couldn't help a small chuckle.

"Well, it's Stark," she shrugged, but she was smiling, and he wished he could put it in a jar and keep it in his pocket.

Or perhaps something a little less morbid than that, he thought, double-taking at the idea, and he shook his head.

"So you want to dance...with me?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

He didn't think she could get any prettier, but the blush rising on her cheeks proved him wrong, and he felt his stomach clench at the sight.

"At a fictitious party that Tony probably isn't throwing?"

He knew Tony was eccentric, but there was no telling when Thor would arrive, if he did, and the man would have to be a fool to plan for something so unreliable.

"That's right," Darcy nodded, grinning, blush and all.

"Miss Lewis--"

"Darcy."

Right. He shook his head and tried again.

"Darcy," he began, "I'm not so sure that would be a good idea."

"One dance?"

"Yes. I--"

"If you don't know how, I could teach you," she offered cajolingly. "I took ballroom dancing lessons all through grade school."

"That's not what I--wait, really?"

"Would you like me to show you?"

Something told him that would be a very...very dangerous idea.

"Uh, no. Thank you. But that's not why I--"

"Are you scared of me?"

_Hell, yes._

"No, I'm not. I just don't think it would be a very good idea, is all."

He wondered if he sounded as stupid out loud as he did in his head, but she was nodding now, seemingly in contemplation of his words, and he figured he hadn't done too badly.

"So you're worried about Steve, then."

"I--" Steve? A flash of jealousy raced through him, and he shut his eyes in case the growling monster he could feel showed through. He took a second to think, and wondered if he had heard about anything going on between Darcy and the good Captain, but he couldn't recall a thing. The relief that went through him didn't quite settle, well, however. Steve, or no, Darcy was still off-limits. And if she thought he might have heard something, well, then, why should he disabuse her of the notion?" "Yes. Yes, I'm worried about Steve."

She nodded again, "I see." And then suddenly she was grinning again, and she leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, which is why it took him a moment to take in her next words. "You're so sweet, Dr Banner, really, but you don't have to worry. Steve and I, we're just friends. So we could even have two dances, then, really."

"I--"

"Oh, shoot," she cut him off lightly, not sounding the least bit put out despite her words to the contrary, as what he was pretty certain was the song _My Girl_ started playing from her pocket. "That's my cue to exit. So I'll put you down for two on my dance card, and in the meantime, try not to drop anymore flasks, okay, Doc? Bye, Eva, I'll see you tomorrow!"

And with that delighted call, she floated out of the lab, leaving Bruce to stare after and wonder what the hell had just happened as Eva whirred happily about his feet.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"Cordi, I think I just did something really stupid," Darcy said as she answered the phone, her footsteps quick and efficient as she walked down the hall to the emergency stairs. "And hello, by the way, I'm sorry I'm so rude."

"It's okay, I'm rude, too," the girl replied cheekily, and Darcy laughed, though it didn't slow her heart rate any as she opened the door.

She had a feeling it was Pepper who had talked Tony into putting in these stairs; she imagined the conversation had gone a little something like this:

_"Sometimes elevators don't work, Tony. And not everybody had an iron suit to fly them where they need to be."_

_"It's not iron, it's a gold-titanium alloy!"_

_"Tony."_

_"Seriously, Pep, why would we put in stairs? It's not like I'd ever use them."_

_"Of course not. I wouldn't want you to exert yourself, sweetheart."_

_"Excuse me? I will walk those steps every day, young lady."_

_"Thank you, Tony. I'll go talk to the contractors about the updated design you're sending them."_

_"Wait, what?"_

Pepper was perhaps a little snarkier in Darcy's imagination than she was in real life; not that she didn't put Tony Stark down on a regular basis, but she got the feeling that she did it a bit more gracefully than that.

"So what stupid thing did you do, Okaa-san?"

Darcy made sure that the emergency door was firmly closed behind her before sliding down to the floor, and saying, "I think I just asked my boss for a date."

Just saying it out loud gave her a chill, and she couldn't tell if it was a good one or a bad one.

"You asked Dr Foster out?" a confused voice returned, and she laughed.

The girl may have sounded confused, but Darcy knew she was doing it on purpose.

"Please, spare me your juvenile sense of humor," she began, only to stall as Cordi replied, "But, Okaa-san, I _am_ juvenile."

"Of course you are," she sighed, and grinned. "But, no, I didn't ask Jane out, though heaven knows I should; that woman probably hasn't seen real sunlight in weeks."

"How do scientists live without sun?" the ten-year-old asked, and this time, Darcy knew her confusion was real, and she grinned.

"You know, mathematicians are pretty much the same."

"Well, I won't be," she huffed and Darcy laughed.

"That, and you'll be able to go outside to research your great American novel," she reminded her, and she could just see the girl nodding.

"That's right."

"How's that coming, by the way? Are you still enjoying your writing class?"

She knew the answer already, really; aside from the times that Darcy just _had_ to tell Cordi something first, the first words out of the girl's mouth were almost always words of praise for her daily writing class she had after school, or for the beautiful teacher who taught it --she had once found herself caught between annoyance and jealousy when one time Cordi has asked " _Pretty please, can Miss Hampton adopt me?_ "-- and even, on occasion, for the other students, who varied in ages from eight to eighteen, and sometimes, though she hated to admit it, " _have even better ideas than me, Okaa-san_."

"Oh, I just finished my third chapter. Do you want me to read it to you?"

Darcy felt an ache deep in her soul; if she were there, Cordi would probably be bothering her nonstop, getting underfoot while she tried to cook dinner or bake cookies, and Darcy would only be able to spare half a minute for her before whatever was on the stove bubbled over or the phone rang, or Mimi demanded her attention, and she swore that, if things settled and they were able to live together again, she would give her so much attention that the girl would be forced to push her away when she overdid it.

_Soon_ , she thought, _soon_.

"Of course I--"

"Wait a minute. When you said you asked your boss for a date, did you mean a real one?"

Darcy paled, and slammed her head back against the door hard enough that she winced. She and Cordi had a tell-all agreement between them, but in consideration of her tender age, Darcy had figured there were a few things that didn't necessarily have to be discussed at this point in time. One of those things was her absurd fascination with Dr Banner and his alter ego, and now, she had let the cat out of the bag. Of course, she could blow off the question, make it seem like she had been joking, but Darcy hated to lie to the girl, not after everything else she had piled on her.

"Um, yes," she said, and swallowed over the lump in her throat. "Yes, I did. Is that...is that okay?"

Beyond wanting to keep her current romantic interests off the radar, this was completely new territory for the two of them. The last date Darcy had been on was when Cordi was three, and once the guy had figured out that having a kid didn't make her an easy lay, he had crawled home with his tail between his legs like the dog he was. Or so she assumed, having walked out of the arcade that he considered a good first date --which it totally _would_ have been, if he hadn't been such a sleeze-- after tasing the creep when he wouldn't take no for an answer and kept trying to feel her up.

So maybe this was even worse than she had thought.

She sighed and forced a smile to her voice as she went on, "Whatever you want, Cord. If you're not comfortable with me dating, or if you want to meet him first to get your approval, I'll make it happen."

She was already calculating the ticket prices from JFK to Santa Fe and what a rental car would cost. Maybe it was ridiculous thinking these things when they hadn't even gone out yet --hell, the man wasn't even sure he could handle a dance with her, let alone a date-- but like so many other things in her life, she was kind of hoping that this one would echo the so-called snowball effect, and so they would be there, be together, in no time.

_Did Jane slip something in my water?_ she wondered faintly, thinking that it would explain so much about the last half hour.

"Is he nice?"

_He turns into a giant green rage monster on a regular basis_ , she thought, but said aloud, "He's very nice," because that was also true. He may have been infuriating, standoff-ish, oblivious, and, yes, occasionally, he got angry and turned green, but in the midst of all that, he really was a nice guy. Now if she could convince him to hold her hand when he _wasn't_ green, he'd be even nicer.

"What's his name?"

"Dr Banner. Well, Bruce," she amended, flushing a little bit. It really was pure stubbornness on her part that she insisted on referring to him by title; she had been hoping that, like everyone else in this place, he would feel awkward, and say, " _Please, call me Bruce_ ," but he did no such thing, and now she felt awkward, but after almost eight months, she would probably have a hard time calling him by his first name, at least for awhile. "He's a scientist; remember I told you I worked in both his and Dr Foster's labs?"

"Yeah. So is he cute?"

The question brought her up short, and she couldn't stop the blush from rising.

"Cordi. I don't think--"

"Okaa-san." The word was full of juvenile long-suffering, and Darcy almost laughed before she went on, "You're not a scientist, so there's gotta be _some_ reason you like him."

"Did I teach you to be so shallow?" she reprimanded, and frowned. "And excuse me, I'm a political scientist."

"That's not real science, Okaa-san."

"My own daughter?" she gasped --she was never going to win that argument, no matter how she tried-- but couldn't help a smile as she added, "But yes, he's _very_ cute. Dark curls that are constantly misbehaving and very pretty brown eyes."

"Brown eyes? Seriously?"

"Well, in certain lights they look green," she fibbed, and winced, even as she crossed her fingers at her side. "And what's wrong with brown eyes? Your Uncle Kurtis has brown eyes."

"Well, nobody's perfect," she said mockingly, and Darcy wished she could get that on tape and send it to her brother. As it was, she would just have to deal with hear-say and hope that he believed her long enough that she could enjoy the expression on his face when his favorite (read: only) niece didn't think he was perfect. "So exactly how much do you like this Dr Bruce guy?"

And Darcy was totally going to call him that next time she saw him.

If she didn't die of embarrassment before then. Had she really asked him on a _date_?

"I--I like him a lot," she admitted quietly, and Cordi hummed in reply. "Though I don't know how much he likes me. He's...he's hard to talk to sometimes."

"Boys are weird," Cordi said, her words clearly a sign of agreement, and Darcy smiled.

"Yes. Yes, they are. And you should have nothing to do with them until you're thirty."

"You're only twenty-six."

"So learn from my mistakes," she returned, and felt herself relax. "So me dating somebody is okay?"

"Find out how he feels about cheesecake."

"Of course," Darcy grinned; it was something of a tradition for them to eat an entire cheesecake between the two of them at the end of every semester, sort of 'Screw you, school, I'm done' thing, and Darcy still felt bad about missing that particular ritual over the New Year. The timing of all of this was absolutely terrible; she had been pulled in just before Christmas, and if it weren't for their daily phone calls and Skype sessions, Darcy would have gone mad. As it was, she wondered how they would fare eating _two_ cheesecakes to make up the deficit. Cordi was almost done with her school year; it didn't seem too unlikely that she might finagle some extra time off for an extended visit. "Real New York cheesecake is supposed to be pretty awesome. Maybe Dr Bruce and I can get some over coffee."

And now she was planning coffee dates? She _was_ mad.

But happy, she thought, and delved into a discussion of which flavor of cheesecake was the best.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

 

Darcy was pissed.

Three days.

It had been three days since her awkward proposal to Dr Banner, and he hadn't appeared in the lab _once_. Of course, even with Kyle having returned yesterday, Jane was still wanting a little more help from her, so there was a possibility that she had just missed the man. Jarvis, however, had let Darcy know, after the third time entering the lab to find it empty that the good doctor was taking a self-imposed break, due to stress.

" _Stress, my ass_ ," she muttered to herself as she let herself into her room. Kyle and Jane had been speaking in tongues again, and since it seemed like all the manual labor was finished, for the moment at least, Darcy had begged off and returned to her room early. A part of her hoped that she would catch her neighbor in the hall, but luck was not with her, it seemed.

She knew that Dr Banner was easily stressed; hell, he turned into a monster just to deal with that stress. But she would bet her last dime that he was staying out of the lab because of her, and she hated him for it.

She hated _herself_ for it. Why had she brought that subject up so randomly? Why hadn't she tried to have a normal conversation with the man first? Why hadn't she been more patient?

Except she was tired of being patient.

She was tired of being nice, of smiling when she didn't feel like it; she was tired of having her entire life dictated by the will of others, and she had just wanted one thing -- _one thing!!_ \-- for herself.

Was that really too much to ask?

It was just one dance, after all.

_You were raring for two_ , a voice reminded her and she sighed and sunk onto her couch.

Darcy would be the first to admit that she didn't have much experience with relationships; certainly, she looked like she knew a lot, and she could flirt when push came to shove, but that was about it. The few times she had tried dating after Cordi was born had been nothing less than disasters, and though she had chalked that up to the other guys being too pushy, too fast, with this apparent rejection in her face, she was starting to wonder if maybe there was something wrong with her.

Why else would a man whose mood swings terrified others be so scared of her?

_You know it's much more complicated than that_ , that same voice whispered, but it was hard to believe it right now.

Darcy glanced down at her watch and frowned. It was just before three o'clock, which left her a solid hour and a half before Clint expected her down at the target range. Maybe she would try to watch a movie, lose herself in someone else's fantasy as she tried to escaped the failure of her own, she thought, and rose to go to her room only to stop as Jarvis spoke.

"Pardon me, Miss Lewis, but Doctor Foster requests your presence in the lab. She says it is most urgent."

"And she couldn't have had this urgent need a half hour ago?" she muttered, but the AI stayed blessedly silent in the face of her rhetorical question.

He was amazingly adept at reading moods, she had found, and though she appreciated sarcasm as well as the next person, it was nice when he turned it off for her. With a few more grumbled comments, Darcy turned back to her door. And then stilled, at the sight of the very man she most --and least-- wanted to see.

"Uh, hi," he began, his face the very picture of shame and awkward, and she scowled.

"Dr Banner."

"So, uh, Jarvis tells me Doctor Foster needs help, and, uh, I figured you might have also received that call, and I...yeah."

_Yeah_? The man ignored her for three days and all he had to say for himself was ' _Yeah_?'

"You are a piece of work, you know that?" she growled and slid past him into the hall.

He didn't respond, but she noted out of the corner of her eye that he was keeping pace with her, and she wasn't sure if the gesture flattered or annoyed her.

Perhaps she was being childish, but Darcy decided to give him the cold shoulder as they walked, not even speaking as they rode the elevator down several floors to Jane's lab, and though the tension in the air was thick, she felt a tad proud, knowing that she was making the man uncomfortable. The tension remained as the entered Jane's lab, where they were met with a frenzied congregation of scientists and Avengers alike, all hovered around Jane's latest machine, which happened to be emitting a rather colorful aura.

One might have even called it the beginnings of a rainbow bridge.

Darcy grinned, suddenly, her expression both fierce and full of joy, and though his expression as he looked down at her said he was regretting everything, he offered no arguments when she said smugly, "I believe you owe me a dance, Doctor."


	6. Pro: Tony Stark Throws One Hell of a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovebirds almost had a moment, and then guess who showed up?  
> This is getting interesting, and I'm so thankful for all the comments and kudos; without that encouragement, I couldn't go on, so thank you, thank you, thank you!!  
> And the journey goes on...  
> Cheers.

Tony barely waited twenty-four hours after Thor's arrival --and that due to Pepper's sensitivity-- before throwing that party that Darcy had predicted only days earlier. And it was tasteful, as she had also predicted, but it was also undeniably a Tony Stark party. While a string quartet played Mozart in one corner, Tony was passing out drinks at a full bar in another, wearing a dopey looking grin on his face that was only made to look dopier by the silly party hat he wore on his head. Darcy supposed they should be thankful that he wasn't getting drunk while wearing the Iron Man suit --she had heard a few horror stories from Natasha about just how well _that_ had gone-- and leaned back on the bar with drink in hand as she watched Thor spin Jane across the floor in some complicated waltz step that he had apparently learned when he was very young, part of his royal training or some such nonsense.

Whatever it was, they looked elegant as they moved across the floor, and Darcy couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy that she couldn't have the same thing. Jane had slapped the demigod once upon his technicolor arrival --and then thrown herself into his arms before he had the chance to respond. And that was that; Jane didn't demand any explanations, Thor didn't question her actions, they just were. It was simple.

_Too_ simple, in Darcy's opinion, and she slammed back the rest of her drink, irritated at her self-contempt and jealousy of her best friend. Why couldn't she just be happy for her?

"You keep throwing drinks back like that, dollface, you're gonna make yourself sick."

She raised a brow as Clint leaned against the bar beside her, and he frowned.

"Are you even old enough to drink?"

"Haha. I'm twenty-six, Clint."

He blinked down at her in surprise, his frown deepening.

"No kidding?"

"And I thought you knew everything about me," she teased, and he laughed.

"Well, everything important," he shrugged, and she rolled her eyes, wondering what he would say if he knew he had missed the most important thing of all. "So, twenty-six...damn, you're not jailbait after all, huh?"

"You can shut up any time," she smiled sweetly before turning back to call Tony over. "Mix me up another one of these, Stark?"

"Call me Tony and I'll think about it," he returned and she sighed.

"You know, I'm pretty sure it's against the Geneva Convention to withhold drinks from a lady," Clint offered, and Tony grinned.

"You know I never follow rules, Hawk."

"True," he nodded, before frowning. "Where's your CEO? Shouldn't she be here making sure you're behaving or something?"

"I _am_ behaving," he said adamantly, but then added, "Last minute meeting. She may or may not be here within the hour. God, I'm so glad I don't have to be responsible for all that crap anymore."

"You mean you don't have to responsible _at all_ ," Darcy told him, and he scowled and pointed a finger at her.

"I am responsible as _hell_ , D. I asked you for your ID before I gave you that alcoholic Shirley Temple, didn't I?"

"And I told you to get real," she smiled, and he shook his head, before sending a look Clint's way.

"Kids these days have no respect for their elders."

"Ouch," Clint shook his head, and backed up, "Don't put me in that group with you, gramps. I'm only seven years older than Darcy."

"Really?" Darcy asked, surprised, and they both decided to ignore Tony's affront at being called 'gramps.' "Thirty-three?"

He shrugged, and she suddenly knew he was lying through his teeth when he said, "That's right. We're practically high schoolers compared to this guy," he added, pointing at Tony, and she grinned.

She didn't know why he was being so goofy but she liked it.

"Thirty-three, that would make Darcy here, what, twenty-seven?"

"Twenty-six," she shot back at Tony, and he whistled long and low.

"Damn, you _are_ grown up. So, hey, D, if things with Pepper don't work out, how do you feel about--"

"Tony, if you finish that sentence, 'things with Pepper' will be very rough for you," the woman in question interrupted as she took a seat next to Darcy, and smiled. "Hello, Darcy. I love what you did with your hair."

Darcy twisted one of the loose curls around her finger, and shrugged.

"I've been twisting it up for so long I decided to let it flow free tonight."

The redhead laughed, and brushed a stray strand behind her ear.

"I know how you feel. If I hadn't had that meeting, I'd be right there with you."

"If you need help letting your hair down, Pep, I've got a room we can--"

"Tony." The grin slipped from his face as she glared at him before turning back to Darcy. "How have you been these days?"

"Peachy," she grinned, and made a quick glance at yet another pair of shoes that would cost more than a year's worth of her paycheck, and looped her arm through Clint's. "In fact, Clint and I were just about to hit the dance floor. You two play nice, now!"

She could hear Tony's protests as she dragged Clint away from the bar, but when she glanced back after a moment, she saw that Pepper had leaned over the bar and was giving him one hell of a hello kiss. God, they were adorable. And she really was going to kick Tony's ass if he did something to screw that up. She hadn't even gotten up the courage to ask Pepper if she could borrow her shoes, yet.

"So, uh, did you really want to dance, or were you just giving those two a moment?"

She looked up at Clint, and smiled. Though besides the string quartet this wasn't really a fancy party, Clint had cleaned up, in black slacks, a black button-up, and a dark magenta tie. He looked good, thirty-three or otherwise, and she spared a thought to wonder where his bow was --to wonder who had talked him into putting it aside and _how_ \-- before she let herself go into his open arms.

"I'll always dance with you, Clint."

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

She had probably been dancing with Clint for about a minute before Natasha came, in a ravishing red salsa dress that matched her hair, and asked to cut in.

Darcy had splurged on a sleek green mermaid style dress that matched her eyes, but even she felt a little plain next to the gorgeous assassin, and she would bet that those diamond drops dangling from the other woman's ears were one hundred percent real. She had felt a little cowed, and bowed out easily, and she hoped she didn't look like an idiot as she stared after the two. They were perfectly in sync, a mixture of elegance and sexuality that Darcy felt would take years for her to master, and she wrung her hands together awkwardly as she watched them drift away from her.

"Need a partner, Agent Lewis?"

Darcy turned and smiled up into warm blue eyes, shaking her head.

"It's not agent, Steve. It's just Darcy."

He shrugged, but didn't apologize and just smiled as he held out a hand.

"So, did you want to dance?"

Was he blushing? It was hard to tell in the muted lighting, but she didn't hesitate to take his hand.

"I'd love to, Steve."

His smile grew, and then she _knew_ he was blushing as he ducked his head, and admitted, "I'm not much of a dancer. Yell at me if I step on your toes?"

"I would never yell at you," she soothed, and moved into a somewhat awkward, but precise, dance form. "If you want, I can lead you from my side."

"I--you can do that?"

"Almost twelve years of ballroom dancing. I could spin you in circles, Cap."

He laughed at that, and nodded.

"Lead on, then, Miss Darcy."

It was a step up from Agent or ma'am, so she wasn't about to argue that he still couldn't lose the title. She only smiled, and moved into the dance.

"So, uh," he began after a moment of staring at her feet to make sure they were both going the same direction, "I haven't seen you around lately."

"No, you haven't," she acknowledged, not wanting to apologize for things she couldn't control, even if she maybe _did_ feel a little sorry about it. "I've been working with Jane a lot, trying to get Thor back--"

"Guess all your hard work paid off?" he asked, and she grinned.

"Something like that. Plus, I don't know if you've heard, Clint is teaching me how to shoot, and I--"

"He gave you a _gun_?" he asked, aghast, and Darcy stopped their movement a moment to stare up at him. He looked caught between confusion and terror, and she wasn't quite sure that was a flattering statement on her part. "Why in _God's_ name would he--"

"He didn't give me a _gun_ , Steve," she cut him off before he could start one of his rants, and he stopped and then frowned.

"He didn't?"

"No." The relief on his face lasted only a moment before she explained, "He's teaching me how to handle a bow."

"That..is--"

"What?"

For all that he was 'Captain America' and was supposed to be a role model and have that whole 'Trust me, I know better' attitude, Steve Rogers was not a dummy. He could see the challenging light in Darcy's eyes, and maybe he could try and convince her how foolhardy and dangerous using a weapon was. But hell, Darcy had asked Clint for a reason; he was the best of the best, and shouldn't a girl get some credit for picking her teacher right?

"So why did you decide to learn about...that?" he asked, and Darcy almost laughed; the idea was clearly distasteful to him, but he was trying to be a good friend and show some interest anyway.

"Actually, it was after watching some of Clint's old battle recordings. He's always so calm, but he gets his mark, every time. It's like, how in the world do you manage to take out a guy a hundred yards away when things are blowing up in between you?

"Uh..."

"Plus, I have to admit, though my arms kill me after every session, I'm starting to notice a change, and honestly? I'm thinking I might be able to take Natasha in one of her arm wrestling matches."

Steve laughed at the whispered aside, and Darcy grinned. They both knew she was full of it; Natasha only took on the most foolhardy of challengers --a majority of which included SHIELD agents that couldn't stand the thought of being bested by a girl. After all, being an assassin didn't require lots of physical strength, so how hard could it be? Each and every one of them left those matches humbled, and, often in tandem, ashamed, and it was ridiculous for Darcy to even imagine that she might be strong enough after only three weeks working with Clint.

"Well, you give me a call when you challenge her, will ya?"

Darcy's grin grew as he played along and she nodded.

"Absolutely. You'll be first on my list."

"Before even Tony?" he asked, skeptic, and she shook her head.

"Tony won't even be on the list. He'll have to hear about it from the gossipmongers."

"God, he'd hate that."

"That's the point," she said, and his grin was pure mischief.

"Of course we'll have to stop Jarvis from telling on us."

"Jarvis loves frustrating that man as much as any of us," she shrugged. "I'm sure we can convince him to keep quiet."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

They danced in comfortable silence for the next few moments, Darcy making sure to keep their movements simple while still being graceful, and it was nice to see Steve relax his stance as they moved across the floor. He cleared his throat then, and she looked up, a question in her eyes that only grew more pronounced as he asked, "So can you do that?"

"Do what?"

He nodded toward Clint and Natasha.

"Dance like Hawkeye and Widow."

Comprehension dawned, and she flicked a glance their way --she would swear they were one body, they moved so seamlessly together-- and shook her head.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why not? You said you had twelve years of lessons? Didn't they teach you that sort of thing?"

"'That sort of thing,' Cap, cannot be taught, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?" he frowned, and she paused, wondering how to explain.

"It's not something you really learn," she began slowly. "It's more about the partnership than the actual dance."

He nodded slowly in return, before asking, "So if you and I stuck it out for awhile, we could--"

He broke off at Darcy's laughter, and she shook her head.

"Oh, no. That's impossible."

He looked confused and asked, "Why?"

"Because _that_ , my friend," she began, gesturing to the couple across the floor, "is pure sexual chemistry in motion."

Steve blinked and blushed, his steps faltering, and Darcy reached up to pat his cheek.

"It's okay, Steve, there's no need to be shy about it. That's just something you and I will never have."

Something flickered in his expression, but disappeared before she could decide what it was.

"I...see. If you'll excuse me, ma'am, I think I need some air."

He nodded shortly to her, and suddenly she found herself alone again, and if the music hadn't decided to end at that moment, Darcy wasn't sure what she would do. Was it something she'd said? As it was, she simply shrugged it off and let herself drift through the crowd back over to the bar. Tony was now on the floor with Pepper; they quartet had started playing a tango just as she stepped off the dance floor, and Darcy spared a thought to wonder just when in between all his inventions and the numerous PhDs he liked to brag about he had learned to dance, before she shook her head and turned back to the SHIELD agent who had taken over the bar.

"Can I get a martini? Dry, two olives?"

The woman gave her a skeptic once over before nodding; Darcy was relieved. She didn't actually have her ID on her, and damn it, she really wanted a drink. She'd have fought the woman if she argued, but then again, there probably wasn't _anyone_ here under age, so despite her youthful glow, she could probably get away with anything right now. She could admit, now that she was alone, that she was feeling a little...tetchy. The party had started over an hour ago, and a certain Doctor was still a no-show. What gives?

Did she have some sort of tattoo across her face that said 'Do not pass Go?'

She downed the martini nearly as soon as the bartender had set it beside her, and she relished the burn of the vodka before she popped an olive in her mouth. To be perfectly honest, she hated olives. But she had learned that having an olive to wash away the taste of the martini was a good check so she wouldn't have too many drinks at once.

"Damn, you really _do_ like slamming those things back, don't you?"

Darcy eyed Clint sideways as she bit into the second olive, and shrugged, trying to ignore the acrid taste in her mouth.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing," he shrugged casually, and picked up her drink to see if there was anything left in it before setting it down again with another shrug. "Though I oughta warn you, if you're planning on wrestling Nat anytime soon, might I suggest you try it sober first?"

She blushed and then laughed.

"You guys heard that?"

"Of course," he replied. "Though we're both totally on board with keeping Tony in the dark about it. That guy gets riled up so easy, it's almost hard _not_ to."

"True," she nodded, and watched as Clint turned around to order them both another round.

"And make mine dirty," he added, before turning back to her. "You enjoying this shindig, dollface?"

"Shindig?" she repeated with a grin, and then shrugged. "It's not bad. A lot more crowded then I would have thought, considering we only brought Thor back."

"I keep hearing about these Warriors Three," he mused. "They sound pretty badass."

"Oh, they are," she said, "though Sif is just plain amazing. I might even put her up against Natasha."

"Is that so?" he asked faintly, and she shrugged and sipped slowly at her second martini.

Tony and Pepper looked amazing on the floor, though not quite like Clint and Natasha; of course, she'd heard that those two had only been 'dancing' for a few years now. Who knew how long Clint and Natasha had been together? Natasha still looked ravishing, even dancing with one of the SHIELD scientists that Darcy had seen around the labs lately. She started to frown; though they were all dressed up, with the exception of Jane, Pepper and the Avengers, she was about ninety-eight percent sure, almost everyone here was a SHIELD agent. This wasn't a SHIELD party, not that she knew of, so why, then, were they here?

"Why _are_ there so many SHIELD members around?" she blurted, and then frowned. "I mean, it is _Stark_ Tower, right? I know the Avengers thing is related to that, but isn't this technically private property?"

Clint slanted her a glance and raised a brow.

"You've been working here how long and you're just _now_ wondering that?"

She blushed at the insinuation and scowled.

"It's not like the thought just occurred to me. Though fine, I admit that when I first got here, I thought Stark Tower was SHIELD property."

Clint snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

"Yeah. Cuz _that_ would go over great with Tony." She narrowed her gaze at him and he continued, "They're here to keep tabs on the Avengers. Make sure we're not creating more chaos than usual."

"Are you sure you don't mean they're here to keep tabs on _Tony_?" she asked, and he grinned as she went on, "I mean, honestly, the rest of you guys are pretty harmless outside of a mission. Tony blows things up on a regular basis."

"And Doctor Banner turns green," he pointed out and she sighed.

"Fine. But I'm really not seeing how you, Natasha, Steven, and chaos mix. Even Thor," she said, nodding toward where he was spinning in circles with Jane in his arms and a big dopey smile on his face, "isn't very chaotic when Loki's not involved."

"Dollface," he said in a long-suffering tone, "You have not spent nearly enough time in our company."

She grinned in reply.

"Is that supposed to frighten me, Clint?"

"If it did, I wouldn't be teaching you how to shoot," he replied, and her grin widened.

"Alright, then. So, I--"

She broke off, her thoughts scattering, and barely heard Clint say beside her, "Well, damn, look who showed up."

Bruce Banner, in all his scientific glory --well, minus the lab coat, that is-- was standing in the doorway, and he was staring right at her. Darcy stared right back, but found herself unsure as to where to look first. The light caught the gold of the cufflinks on his white tuxedo shirt, and the jacket over his arm matched the dark navy slacks he wore. His black shoes were polished to a shiny veneer, and he had even managed to tame his curls into something resembling a conservative hairstyle. He looked amazing. He also looked awkward, and self-conscious, and Darcy added the word 'adorable' to his description, and she couldn't help but smile.

He returned the smile, small, though it was, and the two started toward each other, heedless of their surroundings, and met in the middle of the dance floor.

"Hi," he said softly, after a moment of staring at each other, and she grinned, all her anger and frustration forgotten.

Maybe things between them weren't quite perfect, but he was here, and that's all that mattered now.

"Hi, yourself. You clean up good, Doc."

He ducked his head at the compliment, but murmured a soft, "Thank you. Tony helped a little."

"Well, I guess the man's good for something," she said lightly, and he laughed, the sound soft and low and running all the way to her fingertips.

"You look nice. I mean great. I mean..." He stopped, and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like " _Get it together, Banner_ ," before he smiled, and said, "You look lovely, Darcy."

"Thanks. I splurged," she admitted, and did a little twirl to show off the dress, relishing the feel of it swirling along before swishing back into place. "I mean, how many times are we gonna figure out how to create an Einstein-Rosen bridge, right?"

"Right," he nodded, and though the couples beyond them were in constant motion, moving with the slow foxtrot that was now playing, everything between them was still, quiet, their breaths the only thing breaking the bubble of silence they had found themselves in.

"So," Darcy began after a moment, "Are you here to dance with me?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but the voice she heard was definitely not his.

"Miss Lewis? You have a guest."

They both blinked as one, and Darcy turned to see one Deputy Agent Maria Hill, wearing a simple blouse and pencil skirt, smiling calmly at her, and Darcy blinked again.

"Excuse me?"

"You have a guest."

She wondered faintly if the woman knew how to dress for a party at all before glancing back at the doorway, but it was empty.

"I don't--"

"She's in Conference Room C, on the third floor."

Darcy breathed in slowly, wondering what in God's name she had done wrong to have her perfect moment interrupted, but she only smiled and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Agent Hill, but I really don't think now is the time for--"

"She seems very insistent upon seeing you, Miss Lewis."

"I--it's after nine at night."

"It's five after ten, actually," she replied, not even looking down at her watch, and Darcy cursed her to the darkest depths of the sea.

"Exactly. Tell her to call back tomorrow, if it's really that important. I can't--"

"She said to give you this," the agent cut her off once more and pulled a small charm from her skirt pocket.

It wasn't anything fancy, just a few colored beads tied to a key chain with a piece of rainbow string. Fancy or no, Darcy went pale beneath her makeup before the flush returned and she grinned, wide, and excited.

"Conference Room C, you said?"

"Yes, Miss Lewis." She handed her the charm, and nodded before stepping back. "Shall I tell her you'll be joining her shortly?"

"Of course, I--" she turned back to Bruce and went pale again. "Oh. Doctor Banner. I'm sorry, I--"

"No," he shook his head, and smiled, and she felt her heart clench in her chest. "Go ahead. We'll take a rain check on the dance, okay?"

His words warmed her to her toes; that meant he wasn't going to ditch her, and that was maybe the best thing to happen to her all day.

Well, the second best, she thought, and reached up to brush a kiss to his cheek before she dashed off after Agent Hill.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Darcy nearly couldn't contain herself as she rode the elevator down with Agent Hill. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, the whys and wherefores, and she was prepared to scold Mimi as soon as she saw her for taking a vacation so close to the end of school, but all concerns and reprimands paled in the face of one undeniable fact: Cordi was here, in New York, at Stark Tower, and Darcy had not seen the girl outside of their Skype video chats for nearly eight months.

"Did they look well?" she asked, and couldn't help a small giggle. "I just can't believe they traveled all this way. I mean, they're crazy, but--"

"They?"

Darcy paused at the question and looked at the woman head-on.

"Weren't there two of them?"

"No, Miss Lewis." She felt her heart sink a moment before she continued, "Just the child."

"Oh." Well, Mimi was probably at the hotel or something, and wanted to leave them some time alone. "Well, that's fine. I haven't seen her in forever, and I can't believe she's here for a visit, and I'm babbling, I'm sorry," she finished, flushing red, but the older woman smiled kindly.

"It's fine, Miss Lewis. I understand how you feel. I haven't seen my sister in a long time. This isn't exactly a family-friendly work environment."

"You're telling me," she laughed, and then happened to look down at her clothes and laughed again. "Though I doubt I'd have worn a gown like this for any other work party."

"Of course. Mr Stark has quite an interesting definition of formal work attire."

Darcy wondered if that was some sort of put down, but the smile on her face, while amused, seemed genuine, so she didn't comment on it.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," she began after a moment. "I didn't expect any visits, and, well, I know SHIELD is here to watch over the Avengers, but that doesn't mean you guys should be relegated to baby-sitting, either."

The smile on her face flickered before the agent shook her head.

"It's no trouble, Miss Lewis. Your--ah, Cordelia, she seems quite lovely." There was a pause, and then, "She wasn't in your file, Miss Lewis."

It wasn't a question, exactly, but Darcy knew that's what she meant it as, and she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Ah. My mother has joint custody of her, has since she was born. Most people assume she's a sister or a niece, considering our ages."

"You know there _are_ accommodations for families, Miss Lewis. I'm sure, if we had known, we could have--"

"I wasn't exactly sure I wanted her around the Avengers," Darcy cut her off gently. "Or in New York at all, since it seems we get hit with crazy robots or alien invasions or whatever here more than most places."

That, and she had been sort of hoping, for the first few months, anyway, that this would be a temporary thing, and then she could get back to real life. She wasn't sure what she was hoping for these days, but maybe, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to bring Cordi out here for keeps? After she finished her schooling, that is, and she started frowning again as she thought of the three weeks remaining in the term. What was Mimi thinking, coming out at a time like this?

"Of course," Maria nodded, and for a second Darcy thought she had spoken those last things out loud, before the elevator came to a halt and they stepped off onto the third floor. "Though if you change your mind, I'd be happy to speak to the Director on your behalf. You may even be eligible for a raise, considering childcare costs and such."

Darcy felt tears rise to her eyes, and smiled at the woman in thanks.

"That would be amazing. Thank you, Agent Hill. I'll let you know what I decide."

She didn't say a word in reply, but her smile spoke volumes, as she pushed open the door to the conference room. And then, she disappeared, as the only thing that Darcy could see was the ten-year-old girl with her hair tied up in pigtails, and swinging her sneakered feet back and forth as she sat in one of the oversized chairs, and Darcy rushed forward and pulled the girl into her arms.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

It could have been minutes; it could have been hours, before Darcy and Cordi separated, their words punctuated by both tears and laughter, and Darcy was astounded by how the pixelated image on her computer didn't do the girl justice by half. The dimple in her left cheek, the smattering of freckles across her nose from sitting outside in the sun too long, those beautiful, deep turquoise eyes, she had thought so clear during their video chats, but now, in person, she saw how lifeless those had been, how they paled in comparison to the real thing.

"God, you're beautiful."

"Okaa-san," the girl returned, a blush high on her cheeks, and Darcy couldn't help but trace that blush with her fingertips.

"Have you grown taller?"

"Three inches."

"Amazing."

"And I'm wearing size three shoes."

"We almost need to get you women's shoes," she grinned, and pulled her close again to nuzzle into the soft blue sweater she wore. "What are you doing here?"

"Mimi sent me away," she shrugged, and Darcy stilled.

"She-- _what_?"

She looked up at the girl in confusion. She didn't mean that she had traveled all this way by _herself_ , did she?

"Archie didn't want to take care of someone else's kid."

"Come again?"

Confusion was slowly turning to anger, and it took her a moment to recall that Archie was the name of the man that her mother had been seeing for the last few months. She hadn't met him, but Mimi had been over the moon about him, and though she recalled Cordi saying something about not seeming to like her, she had figured it was just the two of them figuring each other out. This, though. This was--

"He didn't want--"

"Why in gods name would not say something like that sooner?" she snapped, and then forced herself to calm down as Cordi flinched. She went on, calmer, albeit mocking, "And how ridiculous--if he was going to be a stepfather anyway--"

"He doesn't mind that. He doesn't want to be the step- _grand_ father."

"Excuse me?"

Darcy was now completely lost.

"He found out last night that Mimi wasn't my mother."

" _What_?"

"Apparently she'd been telling him I was a surprise baby," she said offhandedly, and Darcy saw red.

Darcy knew her mother had a complex, but this was taking things too far.

"Son of a...so, what, he found out and threw a fit?"

"Not really," Cordi shook her head. "He just walked away. But Mimi couldn't take it, so she took out some money from her savings and put me on the first plane this morning."

"Jeez--that is--I can't--" she screamed before pulling Cordi into her arms. "I knew she was nuts, by my goodness. I'm so sorry, Cord."

"It's no big deal," she muttered, but it was obvious it was, and Darcy felt her heart clench in reply.

"So where are your things?" she asked brightly, setting her back from her. "Did you leave them in the lobby? I can get you settled in my room for now and then--"

"Mimi's sending my things later."

"Oh." So she really had just sent the girl on a whim. Darcy struggled to keep her smile in place as she went on, "Okay. Well that's fine. And I'll take a day off tomorrow and we can go shopping, get you a bed and some new clothes--it can get kind of chilly here sometimes. Personally," she added, a little softer, "I think Tony keeps the air down so he doesn't explode something in the labs."

Cordi laughed, and Darcy gave an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. She had been so serious, so _depressed_ , since she had started explaining things, and it was nice to see the ten-year-old bounce back.

"So, are you hungry? Did you eat on the planes? Or at a layover? You must be exhausted, too, travelling from what, seven in the morning?"

"Five."

"Ouch," she grimaced. "Well, we'll get you something to eat, and then you can bunk in with me."

She smiled, and the exhaustion was suddenly so clear, and Darcy, pulled her up and into her arms.

"Okaa-san, I can walk--"

"I'm carrying you. No arguments."

The girl sighed, but her arms went around Darcy's neck almost immediately, and she sighed at the closeness. She might have been close to ninety pounds, but Darcy wasn't a wimp, and as she hefted her on her hip and turned to go up to her apartments, she promised herself that she would never let the girl go again.


	7. Con: Stark Tower Is Not Childproof Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I did the bad thing.  
> I worked on multiple stories at once.  
> And posted them here.  
> (Hence the long time between updates.)  
> Forgive me?  
> (And maybe go check them out; there's mostly Glee-fic, but also a short original piece as well.)
> 
> Anyway.  
> This chapter was giving me so much trouble until I realized I could just split it in two...  
> So here we are, part one.  
> Thank you so much for all the support, the kudos, the comments (I was super thrilled to see that people are even having discussions in the comment section!), they are what makes me want to keep writing, and I just can't thank you all enough.  
> I've done some crazy things in this chapter, and while I'm a little afraid of the reaction, I hope you'll all think it wasn't so much insanity as it is genius...  
> (Or maybe riding that line, haha.)  
> Thanks again, and Cheers.

"Tony. Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"The perfect time, if you can call me by my first name."

Darcy groaned, and pushed her hair out of her eyes as she leaned against the door. When she had heard the knock at the door this early in the morning, she had thought maybe the building was on fire or something; instead, she found Tony Stark, wearing what she was pretty sure was the same suit from the night before, smiling as cheerily as ever, and she wondered what she was being punished for. Even a Code Green would have been better than this.

"What do you want, Stark?"

"And we're back to that, now, are we? Well, beggars can't be choosers, so--"

" _Stark._ "

He chuckled, seemingly unimpressed with her anger, and asked, "How are you, D?"

"It is six in the morning, Stark. I am _tired_. I have no caffeine in my system. And it is _six am_!"

The smile on his face widened to a grin.

"Damn, D, you're fun in the morning."

"You think this is fun? I'll show you fun if you don't tell me what you want _right now_."

"Weeelll," he drawled slowly, and it was all she could do not to slap the smirk off his face. "I was thinking that you cut out of the party pretty early yesterday--"

"Not all of us are night owls, Stark," she snapped, and he nodded.

"True, true. But since it was for your pal Jane and the mighty Thor, I'm just surprised you didn't stay for the cake."

"Cake?" she asked blankly, and he nodded.

"Yup. Had it shaped like that hammer Mjolnir. Though the inside was marble."

"Huh."

"Anyway, so we've still got some cake in the communal kitchen, and I figured, a girl with a sweet tooth like yours would like something like that for breakfast, and--"

"You woke me up at six in the morning for some _cake_?"

"Is marble not your thing?" he frowned, contemplating, and she wondered what kind of genius he was that _that_ was his conclusion.

"Stark, so help me God, I--"

"Okaa-san? What's going on?"

Her anger disappeared immediately to be replaced with concern as she turned to face the ten-year-old girl rubbing her eyes in the doorway of her bedroom. The hair that was tied up in pigtails the night before was coming loose, with strands falling about her face, and she was nearly drowning in the old t-shirt that Darcy had stolen from Kurtis once upon a time. She was sleep-rumpled and adorable, and Darcy walked quickly and knelt at her side, pushing one of those loose strands behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, hon. I didn't mean to wake you. Are you okay?"

"Are we going out?" she asked, the question punctuated by a yawn, and Darcy smiled.

"It's still early, yet. Why don't you go back to sleep, hon? You can get a few more hours, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured and pressed a smacking kiss on Darcy's cheek before giving her a hug. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Cord."

She watched her shuffle back into the room and drag the covers over her head as she got into bed, and Darcy wondered if she had ever seen anything more precious. She was still smiling as she turned back to the door and then stilled. Tony was gaping at her, eyes wide, and she didn't think she'd ever seen him look so flabbergasted.

"Uh, Stark? If the cake thing was all you wanted--"

"What. Was _that_?"

He was pointing behind her, and she wondered that she didn't feel embarrassed, or even the slightest bit shamed that this was how he found out about Cordelia. Of course, she had kind of assumed that a super genius like Tony Stark would do his research on the people working in the tower, but maybe she hadn't warranted a checkup. Was that a sign of trust of a lack of care? The answer didn't really matter now, and Darcy smiled, and gestured to the kitchen counter.

"Want some coffee, Stark? It'll only take a minute to brew."

"That...that's a..."

"Is that a yes?" she asked, though she was already heading for the coffee maker. Maybe she was tired, but she probably would have gotten up soon anyway, day off or no, so she might as well stay up. She had a _lot_ to do today, and the sooner she started in on it, the better. "I've got a nice blonde roast I've been having lately. Though maybe you prefer dark?"

" _D_."

She turned back at the pleading syllable, and raised a brow. If he really wanted to have this conversation before coffee, well, knowing him, he probably had caffeine flowing through his veins twenty-four-seven.

"Take a seat, Stark," she said after a moment, and pressed the brewing button before grabbing a few mugs from the shelf. She had gotten into the habit of preparing the next day's coffee after dinner each day, so she would have minimal wait for that morning jolt of caffeine. The sound of the coffee brewing was soothing, and she smiled as she set the mugs down and grabbed the sugar bowl and a spoon. "I've got some cookies I made yesterday, too, if you want? There wasn't really much for me to do after Thor showed up, so I went on a baking spree," she explained, and turned back to where he was still standing in the living room, staring at her in a mix of confusion, anger, and was that a little fear in his eyes?

The smile changed to a smirk, and she wondered what had happened to him that Tony was afraid of children.

" _Sit_ , Tony."

Perhaps it was her use of his first name, but he finally seemed to break from the trance he was in, and moved over to the counter and sat at one of the stools there.

"So..."

"Did you want coffee or was that a no?"

"Damn it, D--"

"I'll thank you to stop cursing when you're here. I don't need my daughter picking up your delightful vocabulary."

"Christ."

"Tony."

"Your _daughter_? What the--" he stopped at the stern look she shot him, and swallowed, before asking, "Why?"

She considered giving a smart-ass answer; the man hadn't even waited for her coffee to finish brewing, the jerk. But strange as the concept was, she really _did_ consider Tony Stark to be one of her friends, and just for that, he deserved a rational explanation.

"She was living with my mother. I didn't think I was going to be here this long, and I didn't want her in any type of dangerous situation that being near the Avengers and SHIELD might bring up."

"And now?"

She paused. After their initial conversation last night, Darcy had been more focused on getting the girl food and making sure she was happy than trying to figure out what was going on in Mimi's head. It was sure to be a long, drawn-out conversation, whatever it was, and Darcy had decided to send a quick text (to which there had been no response, she recalled) saying that Cordelia had arrived safe and sound, rather than leave the young girl alone on her first night in a strange place to make a phone call she really didn't want to make. She would be speaking to Mimi soon enough, she knew, but her resolve was perfectly clear: Darcy didn't want Cordelia anywhere near that woman anymore; an alien invasion would be safer than that toxic environment, and she had cursed herself half the night as she held that precious little girl in her arms, and wondered why she hadn't seen it, how she could have missed the signs.

Mimi had always been a little strange; though she had had a break-down after Cordelia's survival and her own daughter's death, Darcy didn't really think she had changed. Except she had been so concerned with Cordelia herself, and then, when her dad came to talk to her about asking Mimi for a divorce, well, she had thought it was just one of those 'We're growing apart' things. Clearly, Jeffrey Lewis had seen things that Darcy had not, and she cursed herself again, before sighing and sitting down beside Tony, the coffee momentarily forgotten.

"This is probably a jerk move after springing this on you unawares," she began slowly, "but will you help me?"

He sat up a little straighter, and she almost smiled as the Avengers persona set in.

"Of course. What can I do for you, D?"

And _that_ is why he was her friend. He might be an ass, and he may go off half-cocked and blow things up for no discernible reason, but he was always there when you needed him, and he never said no.

"My mother and I have joint custody of her. I don't think she'll fight it, but I'd really like to have sole custody now."

"...can I ask why?" he said hesitantly, and she shrugged. It wouldn't hurt to tell him, and now that he knew about her, it probably would not be long before he had every single detail about her existence and her arrival at Stark Tower in his files. He probably had some secret signal that Jarvis had seen and was already delving away into her private life. She smiled briefly at the thought before shaking her head. Whether he was or not, she might as well tell him herself right now.

"Her new boyfriend walked out because he didn't want to be a grandfather, and so she put Cordelia on a five am flight to send her here."

His eyes widened in surprise, before a glare settled on his face.

"I'll get the best lawyer we can find, D."

Tension she hadn't known was pooling at the base of her spine suddenly released and she breathed easy for a moment and found herself smiling truly before she pushed off the stool and went to make her coffee.

"Thanks, Tony. So, coffee?"

"Nah, I'm good," he shrugged. "So...Cordelia?"

Darcy laughed and blushed a little as she shrugged.

"I was reading _King Lear_ in school. Cordelia was kind of amazing, so I figured, by naming my daughter after her, she'd be pretty amazing, too."

She was, of course, though Darcy couldn't help but wonder at the logic of her choice, or rather, the lack of logic. Even Shakespeare had said that names don't make the person. A rose by any other name and all that jazz.

"So you had her in college, then?" Tony asked, and she stilled a moment before slowly shaking her head.

"No...I had her in high school."

"Shi--"

"Tony."

"--itake mushrooms."

She snorted out a laugh, and stirred two teaspoons of sugar into her coffee before going to the refrigerator and pulling out a half-empty gallon of whole milk to top off her cup.

"You sure you don't want some?" she asked over her shoulder, and his eyes narrowed.

"Starbucks?" She only shrugged and smiled and he shook his head. "I'll pass, thanks."

"Your loss," she replied, putting the milk back and taking a sip of the golden liquid. She breathed out a sigh as she felt the caffeine infiltrate her system, before walking back over to the counter and sitting beside Tony. "I was sixteen when I had her," she began, answering his unspoken question. "It was the end of my junior year; I ended up doing the rest of my schooling from home for that year, though eventually, I just quit school and focused on Cordelia. Mimi wasn't much help, you see, and--"

"Mimi?"

"Oh. My mother. It's short for Michelle."

"And she asked you to call her by a nickname instead of mom or mother or something?"

"No," she shook her head, and shrugged. "It's what she asked Cordi to call her. She didn't want to be a grandma in her forties. And I just sort of caught on to it, though mostly I catch myself before I say it to her face."

"And that's the woman who has joint custody of your kid," he sighed, and she felt herself bristling in offense.

"I was only sixteen. It made sense to have joint custody. Plus I didn't want to endanger Cordi by bringing her here, so I--"

"Hey, hey," he cut her off, a placating smile upon his face. "It's your life. God knows I've done plenty to be judged for." He paused, and she wondered if he was thinking of all the things he had done, before he asked, "So where's your dad in all this? Or is he just as insane as your old lady?"

She decided to ignore his second question, and answered, "My dad is actually in Westchester."

Tony blinked and looked at her in surprise.

"He's a mutant?"

She laughed and shook her head. She wasn't sure if she was surprised or not that that was his first thought, and she noted the suspect gaze as he looked her over once more, and she laughed again.

"No, though he _does_ know Professor Xavier. Actually, my--"

She stopped, wondering why she was suddenly trying to tell him her life story, and shook her head again.

"Well, anyway, he's close by. He and my mom separated shortly after Cordelia was born. He didn't want to take us away from her, so she got full custody when he moved out here."

"Us?"

"A brother and sister. Though Olive--Olivia," she corrected herself, "was already twenty-one, and I was almost twenty when they divorced, so not much changed for us, really. But my brother Kurtis was still in high school, so..."

She shrugged and he nodded slowly, and she wondered what was going through his brain as he took in this apparently new information. It was kind of a surprise, that he hadn't known any of this already.

"So Cordelia, she's here permanently then?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I'm taking her shopping later for a bed and some extra clothes. It's almost as if you knew she was coming, giving me that extra bedroom," she added lightly and he laughed, and shook his head.

"You, Darce, are full of surprises."

"Who knew?" she said, her tone blasé, and he rolled his eyes as he stood.

"I'll make a couple calls on the custody thing, then. You need any help getting her settled, you let me know."

"Of course," she smiled, rising with him. He might be a joker half the time, but when it counted, he definitely knew how to be serious. "Thanks, Tony."

"No problem. If you want, I can get you a credit card to--"

"No," she cut him off, but she was still smiling. "I've still got some savings. I didn't spend _all_ my money on last night's dress."

He grinned, and gave a smart salute before starting for the door, and then paused and looked back at her, suddenly serious again.

"You want me to keep quiet? Not that you can hide a thing like that for long..."

"She's not a _thing_ , Tony," she laughed, but shook her head. "I'm not sure. I guess I'd like to tell the rest myself. I have a feeling some of them won't be as understanding as you."

"Oh, I'm still angry," he began, but smiled to soften his words. "Friends are supposed to keep secrets _together_ , D. What'll the rest of them think when they realize I didn't already know this?"

"I'm sure I have no idea."

"Should have pulled up your SHIELD files the moment you arrived," he muttered, and she laughed, but shook her head.

"Wouldn't have done you any good."

"Huh?"

"I have it on good authority that Cordelia is not in my files."

He turned back fully and frowned.

"Come again?"

"Agent Hill? She's the one who told me Cordi was here."

"Right," he nodded slowly. "I saw you leave with her."

"Well, she told me that Cordelia wasn't in my files."

"No kidding. So wait, wait," he held up a hand before she could say anything more, "if she's not in your files, then that means the Spy Twins don't know about her, either."

She almost laughed at his label for Clint and Natasha, but only nodded.

"That's correct."

"Which means, after Hill, I'm the first person you've told."

"Well, I didn't exactly tell you, she kind of walked into the room--"

"I'm the first person you've told," he said again, apparently ignoring her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Yes, you're the first person I've told."

"I win," he said in awe, and she couldn't help a laugh.

"Good grief, Tony, it's not like you're not first in gossip half the time anyway."

"Well, I--"

"Get out, you big jerk. I have to finish my coffee and get dressed, and then decide where Cord and I are shopping."

"If I could recommend--"

" _Out_ ," she interrupted what she was sure would be a fascinating exposition on where to shop in New York City, and shoved him out the door. He was still talking, but she resolutely ignored him, and gave a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him. That had gone surprisingly well, considering, but she _really_ needed another cup of coffee before she dealt with too much more insanity today.

Grabbing her coffee from the kitchen, she walked into the office and booted up her laptop. Hopefully Google would have more fitting ideas --more economically _sound_ ideas, anyway-- than billionaire Tony Stark.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Considering the last twenty-four hours, Cordelia Lewis was having a pretty awesome morning.

Yes, there was that wake-up at six am with some weird guy in a suit standing at their door --and she'd kiss a toad if he wasn't somehow familiar-- but then she had gotten to sleep in afterwards. It may have seemed a silly thing, but for a ten-year-old who still had to get up for school in the morning, this was heaven. And then to have the greatest person in the world wake her with fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate?

Yep, this day was officially awesome.

And now her Okaa-san was telling her that they were going _shopping_ in _New York City_.

Cordi might have jumped for joy, except she wasn't a little kid. A little restraint was in order. Though if her grin got a little goofy as they talked about all the places they were going to go, was it really her fault?

"FAO Schwarz?" she gaped at Darcy, and the woman simply smiled.

"Well, I was thinking, since you had to leave your collection at home, we could get you a friend or two to make up for it until Mimi sends them."

She was referring, of course, to the stuffed animal collection she had left behind. She had been collecting the toys since birth, the majority of them in the form of stuffed rabbits, though there was a traditional teddy bear or two thrown in the mix, as well as a purple stuffed dragon she had aptly named 'Dragony,' and had carried around the house when she was four until his stuffing had started to come out and Darcy was forced to perform emergency surgery to save the poor little guy. He still had a place of honor next to her pillow even after all these years, and Cordi spared a thought to hope that Mimi was careful with him when she packed her things, before she started to imagine what type of creature she might find at the greatest toy store on the planet.

"You are the best, Okaa-san," she gushed, and watched the woman light up. She had hated the confusion, followed by the anger, that had lit her up in an entirely different way the night before when she told her what Mimi had done. It was understandable, of course; it's not like Cordi was too happy about it herself, though she loved being able to see Darcy. She hadn't told her _everything_ , though, and she was worried that, if she did, the woman she admired more than anyone else would send that same anger toward her instead.

What if she hated her?

"So, Cord, what do you say we put on our shoes and get this party started?"

Cordi smiled, and nodded. She was being silly, of course; the ties that bound them were strong, enough that she could see them, glinting in the rare purple that she had come to decide meant unconditional love. She had seen it twice since she had started seeing these strings, once between her neighbors' twin sons, the second time between an old man and his dog of all things. And if she was seeing it now, then when she finally broke down and told the woman about this strange phenomena, then there was no reason to think that the color between them would change.

"Absolutely."

"Just quick let me run to the bathroom and we can go, okay, hon?"

She nodded again, and hopped off the bed and grabbed her sneakers from the floor where she had dropped them the night before. She hopped on one foot into the living room as she put on the first shoe, for no other reason than because she could --Darcy was the last person who would judge her for being a little weird-- and was about to put the second on when a knock sounded at the door. Cordi hesitated a moment, but though she was in a strange new place, Darcy had never said she _couldn't_ open the door, so she walked over and did so.

And then blinked.

The man before her was tall, which wasn't necessarily hard to be compared to a ten-year-old, but Cordi thought he might even be taller than Uncle Kurtis, and he was six feet. His jeans were fitted, as was the plain blue t-shirt that stretched across defined abs that reminded her of the men on the front of Aunt Olive's romance novels. His face, though, put all those supposed hunks to shame. Chiseled features, eyes so blue they hurt, a shy smile that even gave a young girl like _her_ butterflies, topped with the prettiest blonde hair she had ever seen.

Now _this right here_ , this guy was a hunk.

And the hunk was speaking to her.

"Darcy, hi, I wanted to apologize for--you're not Darcy."

He blinked down at her, and she opened her mouth to introduce herself when his face became the picture of horror and he cut her off before she even finished taking a breath.

"Oh my god. Is it Loki? It must be Loki. People don't have this kind of technology these days, do they? Unless it's a mad scientist, I mean look what happened to Banner. Holy Jesus, don't panic, Darcy, we will fix this. We will--"

"Uh, what?"

Looks aside, there was something strange about the man before her, and not just that he was babbling nonsense.

"But Christ, seriously? To turn you into a child? How cruel can a person be?"

He went on, but he finally met her eyes, and it was then that she realized.

_Oh. So he's my...weird._

She could see, finally, the red string swirling about them, tying them together. It was thin yet, but that didn't matter. They had just met after all, so it hadn't really had a chance to grow. And grow it would have to, she thought, a little nonplussed, as she counted the eight years until her majority. She frowned a moment, only to come back as his words broke through her train of thought.

"Come on, Darcy, I'll bring you straight to Stark; I'm sure he can fix you." He grabbed her hand, and she watched in curiosity as the string immediately grew darker. "Or maybe Banner, except he's so edgy lately, he's bound to turn green over this. You think Thor knows how to reverse this sort of magic?"

"I think you're mistaken," she began slowly, and he stopped, and then frowned.

"You don't think Loki's responsible? Then who? You didn't happen to see anything, did you? Or did they catch you in your sleep? Maybe we can ask Jarvis if he saw something or--"

"My eyes are turquoise," she interrupted, not sure who Stark or Loki or Thor or Jarvis were --though Banner, that was the guy that her Okaa-san was head over heels for, right?-- but it wasn't hard to see how he had made this mistake, and she smiled to soften the bite in her words. Except for her eyes, people said she was the spitting image of Darcy. Though now she thought about it, what kind of place was this where he thought the possibility of turning an adult into a child was a reality? "Okaa-san's eyes are _green_. Mine are _turquoise_ ," she said again, pleased to see that he had stopped, and was really looking at her for the first time.

She told herself she didn't miss it when he dropped her hand and knelt down in front of her. She was too young for that sort of thing anyway, no matter how much she liked to pretend she was grown-up. His gaze was just as potent as the simple touch, however, and she blushed a little as he looked her up and down.

"You're not...you have...who are you?"

"Cordi Lewis," she said, and held out a hand once more; he seemed the type to shake hands, and she wasn't disappointed as he took her hand in his once more and shook it slowly. "And you are?"

"Uh, Steven Rogers."

It would be weird to call an older man by his first name, Cordi told herself, but it would also be weird to call what she was pretty sure was her soulmate by his last.

"Steven Rogers," she repeated, and he nodded, before a smile quirked at his lips, and he said, "But you can call me--"

"Steve! I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here. I was just washing up."

It was light and color and pure energy that the older woman brought into the room with her, and Cordi felt both cowed and awed. She had noted dimly the skirt she wore earlier, had fallen in love with the blue and red tie-dyed pattern that both clashed with and complemented the hot pink t-shirt that said 'I do believe in fairies!' alongside a quirky artist's rendering of Tinker Bell, but she hadn't realized as they sat on the bed together earlier how the fabric would twist and turn with every move she made, making it impossible to take your eyes off of her.

"Darcy. Hi. Uh, I came because I wanted to apologize. For last night, I mean." He ran a hand through that golden hair, and Cordi told herself firmly to look away, but the motion had captured her, and she stared as the light glinted off the warm strands. "I shouldn't have just left you on the dance floor. And I feel terrible, I didn't even thank you for the dance. I came back later, but you were already gone, so I figured I'd wait until today, but--"

"It's fine, Steve," Darcy replied gently, smiling. "No hard feelings, honest."

"Good," he nodded, and there was an awkward pause, before he looked back down at Cordi, and she smiled up at him. "So, uh, this is a relative of yours?"

"My daughter, yes."

If she hadn't been looking, she might have missed the flash of pain mixed with the surprise. As it was, Cordi suddenly felt sick to her stomach. She had found her soulmate, and he was in love with her mother.

This day officially sucked.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"Did you say it was the far wall you wanted the bed up against or the one close to the door?"

Darcy looked up from the papers spread out in front of her on the coffee table and glanced over to where the door to what would be Cordi's bedroom stood wide open, the door which Steve stood directly center beneath, and frowned.

"Um, ask Cordi, would you? It's her room after all, and I'm still trying to get my head around these papers Tony brought over."

Tony had worked quick, quicker than she had expected, considering there was nothing to gain by his helping her, and it was not five minutes after they had arrived back in their room after a very successful morning of shopping topped off by lunch at a little place called Serendipity 3 over on East 60th that he had barged in and laid the thick file in her hands. Apparently, her new lawyer, a James Nielson Porter, Esquire, had faxed this over to Tony just before lunch, and he had been more than a little impatient to get it off his hands.

" _Dummy handed this to me, and you know how I hate being handed things, D_ ," he'd said before nodding to Steve, who was laying out the pieces of the bed they had bought earlier on the floor, and flicking a glance toward where Cordi sat at the bar, swinging her feet back and forth as she munched on the cookies Darcy had made the day before, before turning on his heel and stalking back out the door, muttering something about ingrates and bringing children onto private property, and Darcy had a funny feeling he had missed her calling out " _Thank you, Tony!_ " after him.

And now Steve had apparently finished putting the bed together --he had _insisted_ , after having basically forced an invitation to tag along on their little excursion into the outside world, though Darcy was pretty sure she had offered first-- and he was looking like she had asked him to eat dirt.

Darcy had been hoping that inviting him along on their little outing would help soothe any hurt feelings over her secrecy, and she had thought her plan had paid off; now that she thought about it, however, she realized that, while Steve had been his usual sweet self as they spoke, offering to carry bags, giving advice on what type of bed she should buy, using that stern Captain America look on the salesman to make sure it was delivered to the tower right after lunch, even that moment of surprised delight on his face as he had his first spoonful of Serendipity's famous frozen hot chocolate, he had actually barely said two words to the ten-year-old that had walked between them.

She frowned a little as she looked over to where Cordi was sitting at the counter, studiously reading a book she had picked up today on how to be a great writer, and then back at Steve. Did Steve not like kids? Or did he just not like Cordi? Except Cordi had not really spoken to him, either; not that that meant anything, really. Cordi could read moods like nobody's business, and if Steve's apparent distaste was as obvious during their little excursion as it was now, there was no way she would try to push herself at him.

Not without a little push herself, that is.

Darcy sighed, and called Cordi over.

"Hon? You mind helping Steve figure out your room? You're the one who's going to be living there, and I've got to get this all figured out."

This being the girl-in-question's legal custody, though she had yet to discuss the situation with her. This was more of an after-dinner conversation than after-lunch, she thought, and hoped there was enough pleading in her admittedly tired smile for the girl to relent.

Cordi frowned at her for a moment, before a small smile crossed her lips and she asked, "Does this mean we're buying more furniture later?"

_Otherwise why would it matter where the bed goes_ , she thought, knowing the words were in her daughter's mind too, if only left unspoken, and she nodded.

"Soon. I just thought a bed was necessary first."

"Cool," Cordi replied and slid off the stool and walked over to where Steve stood in the doorway of her room. If her distaste at all matched his, it didn't show as she smiled politely up at the man. "You look like a fan of minimalist design. Military, right?"

Darcy choked on a laugh; she had kept the Avengers talk to a minimum over the course of their outing, but she had assumed Cordi would realize that if he worked here with her --and he clearly wasn't Tony Stark or Dr Banner-- that he would have some sort of military training. She buried her face in the papers as she felt Steve's pleading gaze on her, and tried to smother her smile as she pointedly read the pages in front of her.

"Uh, yeah," he said after a moment, and she saw out of the corner of her eye that he had moved aside for Cordi to enter the room before him. _Always the gentleman_ , she thought, as he went on, "Army, specifically."

"So you're used to cots over full-sized beds, right?"

"Uh, right."

Darcy's smile grew as she heard her daughter banter with Steve, and she had a funny feeling that, whether he wanted to or not, he would be wrapped around her finger in no time.


	8. Prelude 001 - A Momentous Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first, wow, I have over a hundred comments on this story!!  
> (And 600+ kudos, yay!)  
> Thank you for all your encouragement and support; it means so much to me!!
> 
> Second, apologies for being so long with an update.  
> School is not my friend lol.
> 
> Third, apologies again, because this is NOT part two of the last chapter...  
> This is a little flashback, written as thanks for passing the one hundred comments marker.  
> I hope you enjoy it, and I promise, I'm still working on the other chapter, my muse just needed a change-up.
> 
> Cheers.

_"Alright, Big Guy. Let's settle down and keep your hands where I can see 'em. We don't want any trouble here."_

Darcy's words played back to her, and she started to laugh, only to wince as her ribs ached in protest. She had six cracked ribs --and thank God they weren't broken, she thought-- and the persnickety SHIELD doctor had told her she was lucky to be alive, and she should take it easy. She had never much liked hospitals, though, and being part of a super-secret spy organization didn't improve upon that fact. She wanted out of that meticulously made hospital bed, out of the too-clean hospital room, and she wanted out now. But she had only been in it for about six hours, and they wanted to keep her under observation for at least twenty-four hours, probably more, to make sure she didn't have a concussion in addition to the cuts, abrasians, cracked ribs, and an arm broken in three places from being flung into the wall by a giant green rage monster.

Furious green eyes flashed across her vision, and she sighed, and then winced again. Apparently anything that didn't keep her completely still was off-limits for the time being. Hadn't Jane been worried that she was over-working her?

Well, you got your time off, didn't you, Darcy?

"Stupid Hulk," she muttered, and then winced, this time in guilt. She had heard the murmurs while they taped up her ribs, about how it was only a matter of time before that monster killed somebody, about how crazy Fury was to trust the thing, and look what had happened to her, and it had taken all she had to remain quiet. Not that she was the quiet sort by any means, and even after a few weeks, people knew that about her, but she had a feeling she would be in too much pain to throw a fit if she actually threw a fit.

The logic of that statement made her dizzy a moment, before she shook it off, and wished that Captain America or Hawkeye or even that crazy Tony Stark had been around to defend the Hulk, as she was almost positive they would have. They were a team, through and through, and teams stuck together. Tony was out in Malibu, though, and Hawkeye was on some mission in Siberia or wherever with that scary Black Widow lady, and Captain America, well, she had noted that if he didn't have to be around, then he wasn't. She almost wondered where he went if he wasn't coming into the Tower, but figured everyone had their secrets, and she wouldn't pry if she wasn't wanted.

As it was, though, she was left to stew in silence while the doctors and agents around her insulted a so-called monster whom she was pretty sure (first meetings were always a little ambiguous, she had found) had only been trying to protect her from the intrusion of a robot named Dummy.

The thought made her laugh again before she whimpered in pain. Damn, that hurt.

But it was funny, to think that the hapless robot that was Tony's pride and joy (as well as the bane of his existence, she sometimes thought) had alarmed the giant creature to the point where he thought that Darcy was in danger.

"Stupid Hulk," she said again, but more fondly this time, and decided she should probably forgive him his mistake, considering. Though maybe _after_ all the pain went away, she thought, only to freeze as a new voice intruded on her painful solitude.

"Uh, sorry about that."

She looked up, and suddenly pain was not an issue. A shy, regretful pair of chocolate brown eyes peered at her from over the biggest bouquet of pink and yellow roses she had ever seen, and it only took her an instant to recognize those eyes, and the curly dark hair above them from the pictures and videos she had seen.

"Dr Banner?"

He lowered the bouquet the slightest bit, and the pained smile on his handsome face brought a whole new ache to the surface.

"Uh, hi. I, um, I picked these up for you," he began, shoving them in her direction, before flushing in embarrassment. "Ah, um, I'll put them in a vase or something. You probably can't--I mean..."

She watched his eyes dart between the cast on her arm and her face, and a slow smile started across her lips.

"Thank you."

"I--"

"For trying to protect me," she added, and he went from red to white in an instant, and cast his eyes down in shame.

"I nearly killed you," he muttered darkly, and she wished she could reach out to brush back the curls that had fallen over his eyes.

"So the Big Guy needs to learn some control," she said, remembering only at the last second not to shrug. "We could all learn a little of that."

"You--you're serious?" he gaped at her, and her grin let loose.

"So you're the illustrious Dr Bruce Banner, huh?" she asked, deciding not to press an issue he clearly didn't understand. "I'm Darcy Lewis. Your lab assistant, or so they tell me."

"You--what?"

"I'm the elf that comes in the night and files all of your work," she added lightly, and his expression blanked a moment before he frowned.

"Oh. You...huh. I wondered who was doing that. Thought I might have done it in my sleep or something. You understand my filing system?"

"What's not to understand?" she asked, though it had maybe taken her three days to realize that it was done by date rather than by substance or anything like that, but she would never admit that to anyone. "I was wondering if I would ever meet you."

He shifted awkwardly before his eyes swept the room and then landed on a pitcher of water beside her bed.

"I've been working nights mostly lately," he said off-handedly before unceremoniously dumping the bouquet in the pitcher...and then cursing out loud.

"Dr Banner?"

His eyes darted back to hers, and she wondered at the embarrassment before he said, "You were drinking from that, weren't you?"

_You're the most adorable thing I've ever seen_ , she thought to herself, but only tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"I'll just call one of those nazi nurses here to bring me another one."

"You--what?"

Her grin was wide as he mouthed the words ' _nazi nurses_ ' to himself, and she reached slowly with her good arm, careful not to stretch her torso in any way, to brush at the petals of a large, half-open pink rose.

"They're beautiful, by the way. Thank you."

"Uh, yeah..."

"I'm afraid I may be out of commission for a bit, though," she added, still smiling so he would know she didn't mind. "Your filing might fall to hell before they let me out of here."

"Um..."

"I'm a fast healer, though," she smiled. "So I'll be back sooner than you know."

"I...see."

_Adorable_ , she thought again, and lifted her good arm towards him, then.

"It's nice to meet you, by the way."

He was slow in taking her hand, but take it he did, and she felt a glow rise from inside her, and knew that, pain or not, she had forgiven him completely.


	9. Con: Stark Tower Is Not Childproof, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and my muse took off after that brief interlude, so yay for another update (and on the same day!! le gasp!!).
> 
> Hope you all are still enjoying it, and I hope I can get things done faster, now I'm getting used to school again.
> 
> Cheers.

Waking up in the twenty-first century after dreaming of awkward slow dances with the most beautiful dame he had ever met for seventy years was harder than Steve liked to admit.

Lots of things were harder than he liked to admit, actually.

Going from a nobody to somebody.

Playing the hero.

Balancing pride at the good he had done with a sort of embarrassed shame that nobody saw the deeds, just the armor.

Trying to stick to values in a time where values were considered antiquated and superfluous.

_"They said we won the war. They didn't say what we lost."_

His own words echoed back to him as he threw a punch that sent yet another punching bag flying across the room, and a small sigh escaped. If Tony wasn't so meticulous with the details --and Steve was hard-pressed not to admit that he admired that trait in the impossible son of his old friend Howard-- there would probably be a couple dents in the wall (or several, maybe) from the other bags that had crashed into it. As it was, Tony had reinforced the walls so that no matter how hard Steve hit, there was not even a scratch.

"Freaking genius," he muttered to himself, and wondered what Tony would say if he told him that his father would be proud. He knew he had some father issues, though Natasha had mentioned that they used to be worse, but he wondered if he would be pleased or disbelieving or even embarrassed.

Not that Tony would ever admit to embarrassment, he thought, and walked over to the side of his private exercise room that was part of the suite that Tony had designed for him and picked up another punching bag. He had been at it a couple of hours now, but he still felt all this tension inside, and so he went on.

_"You should really learn to relax, Cap. You might burst a vein."_

He stilled a moment, and for a second he almost thought that Darcy was in the room with him, but that was ridiculous. Though they were friends, true, he would never invite a lady, even one as animated and brash as Darcy, back to his rooms alone. Not that she would ever assume he meant her ill.

The bitter thought echoed a second and a scowl crossed his handsome face.

Perhaps it was because of her anything-goes attitude, but it had not taken him a month of being around her wild energy to fall under the spell of those enigmatic green eyes, and though there was a part of him that fiercely recalled Peggy to mind whenever he thought of romance, he was falling for Darcy, and falling hard.

He shut his eyes as he recalled her saying that sexual chemistry was something they would never have, and he had to temper his first hit on the newly hung punching bag so he would not break it too early. He felt like an idiot, for walking away like he had, without a word of explanation, and he had a feeling if Bucky was around, he would have called him a temperamental little girl for his reaction to her innocent (albeit harsh, in his eyes at least) put-down. So she thought of him as only a friend. So what? They really hadn't known each other that long, to be honest, and though he was still a little awkward around women, he was not above using his Captain America status to woo a lady, especially one like Darcy Lewis.

That had been the plan: knock on her door, apologize for his behavior, and then offer to take her to lunch to make up for it.

Only then a miniature Darcy answered the door, and he was knocked flat at the realization that the reason why he and Darcy could never have anything between them was because she had someone else.

And she had a _daughter_ with that someone else.

"God damn it," he growled, and threw a couple punches to relieve the ridiculous sensation that he was almost positive was jealousy flowing through him. Why should he begrudge Darcy her happiness? If she loved this someone, then that was that.

A small voice asked where was this someone else, if he really existed? but he ignored it. It was not his business to know where he was; it only mattered that he existed.

And acknowledging that fact, that loss, was harder than Steve would ever admit.

"Hey, Rogers, you'll never guess what our little poli-sci major has gone and done!"

He flinched at the interruption and then sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"Jarvis, why do you keep letting this monster in?"

A cool, calm, and frustratingly unapologetic voice replied, "I'm afraid Mr Stark has overridden my privacy protocols for your suite yet again, Captain Rogers."

"Monster?" Tony asked, putting on a façade of affront. "Please. I know the jolly green giant and I are buddies, but confusing me for him? That hurts, Cap. That really hurts."

Steve almost laughed, but only shook his head.

"What do you want, Stark?"

A smug look crossed Tony's face --which was odd, Steve thought, as he usually always looked smug-- and he waggled his brows mischievously.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Stark."

"God, you and D are a pair, aren't you?" He blinked in surprise and pain at the words, and so almost missed his next ones. "Never calling me Tony...but speaking of D, our little lab assistant has been keeping quite a secret from us all."

"Stark, I don't--"

_Want to hear about it_ , he thought, but Tony spoke over him.

"Get this, Cap. D has a _kid_. Like a mini-D. Only she's got to be at least ten, so maybe not so mini. Well, compared to a baby anyway. Who knew, right?"

"Stark," Steve sighed, and rubbed at his temples. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Dude, Cap, come on. Are you listening to me? Darcy has a _child_. Like a _real_ one."

"As opposed to, what, a chocolate one?"

Tony blinked at him, clearly surprised, before he grinned.

"Yeah, Darcy's attitude is definitely rubbing off on you. You're not the good ol' boy you pretend to be."

"I'm not pretending to--"

"Anyway, isn't that the craziest shi--crap ever?" Steve frowned at the correction, but Tony went on shortly, "Uh, D gave me hell--I mean heck, for cursing around mini-D. Not that I did it in front of her, I mean, but I guess now that she's here, I've got to watch my mouth or something."

"If only," Steve murmured, wondering briefly why Darcy had not asked the same of him until he remembered that cursing was not something he generally did in polite company, before asking, "So did you come here to gossip, is that it?"

Gossip about how the girl of his dreams was unavailable, about how she had a pretty little thing for a daughter, about how that daughter made him hurt all over even as he found himself catering to her whims when it came to bedroom design?

"Excuse me, Cap, but real men do not _gossip_."

The words broke his train of thought, and he paused to take them in.

"Uh, right."

"Though they do on occasion wear pink."

_The hell?_ he thought, but only said aloud again, "Uh, right. So if you're not gossiping, then..."

"I'm here to share the news, obviously," he said, and then frowned. "You don't seem surprised. Who told you?"

The _Who else knows?_ was unspoken, but Steve saw it clearly and almost wanted to laugh. Whether he called it gossip or not, Tony liked to be first with new information, and the fact that he wasn't this time was clearly upsetting to him. Not that Tony telling him the news would have made it any easier...

Steve cleared his throat, and shrugged, "No one told me. I stopped by this morning and ended up going shopping and to lunch with them. You saw me, remember?"

Tony's frown remained a moment before his expression cleared and he nodded.

"Right. I forgot because I was still upset over Dummy handing me those legal papers Porter faxed over."

Steve had no idea who Porter was, and decided he didn't care. He just wanted Tony to leave so he could go back to his misery instead of feigning interest in the man who, though he would never say so out loud, was probably one of his closest friends in the twenty-first century. Even that didn't make him want to confide in him, however, so he set a small smile on his face, and, putting a hand on Tony's shoulder, started to lead him towards the door.

"Well, as I said, I already know, so you don't need to--"

"That kid's a looker, isn't she? Gonna be just like her mom someday."

Steve's heart clenched as Tony went on, and a pair of big turquoise eyes crossed his mind, before he shook them away and gave in to the inevitable fact that Tony would probably be here for awhile.

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

The alarm on Darcy's phone went off at three o'clock on the dot, and she frowned a moment before remembering: she was supposed to meet with Clint today for another archery lesson. Her gaze darted to where Cordi once again sat at the counter, and her frown grew. After Steve had left, promising Cordi that he would help set up the rest of her furniture when he arrived --and she had been so right about his getting wrapped around the ten-year-old's finger, it was not even funny-- Darcy had been caught up in phone calls, to the lawyer, to Cordi's school, and, lastly, to Mimi. That particular conversation had been blessedly short, and Darcy wasn't sure she was upset or not about not being able to give the older woman the tongue-lashing she deserved before she agreed to sign whatever was sent her way, and said that yes, she was in the process of packing up Cordelia's things, and would text her as soon as she sent them off. The blasé attitude with which she spoke made Darcy's temperature rise, but she did not want to get into a shouting match with her daughter only in the other room, and so she had decided that it was a good thing that Mimi had not put forth any arguments against her.

See if she ever let her visit, though, she thought viciously, before forcing a smile to her face. They were done with that, for the time being, at least, and it was time that Darcy played host again and introduced her daughter to another one of her friends.

"Wanna come shoot some arrows with me?"

A million voices protested in her mind: Cordi was too young. A bow and arrow was too dangerous. Clint kept his arrows very sharp. The list went on, but her smile only grew as Cordi smiled in return.

"You mean, like Robin Hood?"

"Exactly," she replied and held out a hand to her. "There's a firing range in the basement, that's where Clint teaches me. You remember me telling you about Clint, right?"

"The one you have girl talk with."

Her smile widened into a grin as the girl rose from her seat and their hands slid smoothly together.

"That's the one. He's teaching me to shoot."

"Is that safe?" Cordi asked, and though there was only simple concern in her voice, Darcy scowled.

"You sound like Steve." Something flickered in the girl's eyes, but it was gone so quickly, Darcy thought she might have imagined it, and she went on as they walked out the door, "I promise, I'm not being reckless. And Clint is _very_ big on safety first, no matter how goofy he sounds."

"If you say so..."

The skepticism was clear in the little girl's voice, but Darcy only smiled, and led her to the elevator.

"I should warn you, I'm not very good at this, yet. It's only been a couple of weeks."

"Bet I'll be better than you in no time."

Her steps faltered a moment before she scowled down at the young girl beside her, and took the last few steps to the elevator.

"You're on, kid. I will take you down."

Cordi was laughing as they entered the metal box, and Darcy smiled, even as a million more voices started to protest.

Are you mad? A ten-year-old learning to shoot a bow and arrow? A ten-year-old learning to shoot from a trained assassin?"

Maybe she was mad, she thought as they exited into the basement, but judging from the excited chatter all the way down, she was pretty sure that this was exactly what Cordi needed to get over Mimi's abandonment, and to get adapted to living in Stark Tower. Everyone needed a hobby, right? And yes, she told those voices, she would find her another writing class to take, but in the meantime, it wouldn't hurt to cultivate other interests, would it?

Clint _was_ big on safety, after all.

She typed in her code to enter the firing range, and walked in, only to halt as Jarvis spoke:

"You do not have access to this area."

Darcy blinked in confusion; of course she had access, Jarvis wouldn't have let her in otherwise. So why did he...

The thought trailed off as she turned around and saw an array of small lasers blocking Cordi's path.

"Uh, Okaa-san?"

"Jarvis," she scowled, and looked up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, this is Cordi. My daughter."

"Of course, Miss Lewis." No surprise that he wasn't surprised, she thought, as he went on, "But this is a highly unsafe area, and children should not be put in harm's way."

"Since when do you care about putting people in danger?" she asked. "You work with Tony all the time."

"Mr Stark is not a ten-year-old, Miss Lewis."

"And he wasn't doing dangerous things when he was ten?" she challenged, and the long pause had her grinning, and she grinned wider when the lasers turned off.

"You have made a fair argument, Miss Lewis. I shall grant Miss Cordelia access, as you wish."

" _Thank you_."

"Though may I suggest that you get her some extra protective gear? I'm afraid we do not have anything in children's sizes at this time."

Cordi had moved closer and was now clenching her hand in hers, looking all around for the source of the voice, and Darcy pulled her in tight to her side.

"Can you order something, Jarvis? And just have Tony bill me."

She didn't mention that she would have no idea where to start looking for such things.

"Of course, Miss Lewis. Good luck in your practice today."

"Thanks," she laughed, and continued walking down the hall that opened up into a large firing range.

"Um, Okaa-san?"

"Yes, Cord?"

"What was that?"

She laughed again in surprise; she forgot that Cordi didn't know everything about the Tower, or Tony Stark, yet.

"That's Jarvis. He's kind of some high-tech artificial intelligence that Tony created when he was a teenager. He runs everything, including security, in the Tower."

Cordi frowned a moment before her eyes lit up.

"This is the computer that was spying on you on my birthday?"

"I am not a spy, Miss Cordelia. I simply monitor the goings on in the Tower."

Cordi jumped as Jarvis interrupted again, before looking up at Darcy.

"Spy," they said in unison before laughing out loud, and Darcy turned to look at the range.

It was quiet today; she had a funny feeling that most of the agents who would normally be there were still working off hangovers from the party the night before, and the thought made her grin. There was Clint, though, in the far back, aiming and firing arrow after arrow into a target a hundred yards away. She would bet a million dollars that they were all dead center, and she gripped Cordi's hand a little tighter as she led her over. She was almost more excited than the ten-year-old, she thought, and wasn't sure if it was for the lousy target practice she was about to engage in, or for having Clint and Cordi meet.

"You're going to love Clint," she began. "He's really weird and funny, and probably my best friend here, after Jane and Steve. Well, maybe more that Steve, even. He's not as easy to talk to," she said with a shrug, and Cordi nodded silently beside her. It was probably the anticipation that had silenced the chatter, she thought, and called out to Clint when they were closer, "Hey, Clint! What's on the agenda today?"

"More of the same," he called back, without looking away from his target. A satisfied smile crossed his face as the arrow released, and she didn't need to look to know that he had hit his mark yet again, before he turned that smile on her and started over. "So, dollface, I've been hearing rumors about you. Which is crazy, because we're totally besties--"

She laughed at the term, and he went on.

"So I know you would have told me if you had..."

His voice trailed off as she reached him, and his expression was carefully blank at he stared down at Cordi.

"Clint, Cordi. Cordi, Clint," she introduced them with a smile. "I hope you don't mind I brought her down here today, Clint. I didn't want to leave her in the room, and she's convinced that if you train her alongside me, she'll be better in no time."

"Of course," Cordi said, her voice strangely careful, and Darcy frowned down at her a moment before smiling back at Clint.

"I asked Jarvis to order some protective gear for her, something more in her size, and--"

"I don't teach kids, Miss Lewis," he interrupted, and she blinked in surprise at his unusually harsh tone.

"Oh. Well, I suppose that's understandable. Sorry, Cord," she apologized, squeezing her hand in regret. "I didn't think about that." She looked back at Clint, and asked, "Sorry I assumed. Should we--"

"She can watch today if she wants," he interrupted again, and she sighed in relief.

She didn't want to take advantage, and she had had a moment of fear that she was before he spoke.

"Right." She knelt down beside Cordi and kissed her on the cheek. "Why don't you take a seat against the wall, hon? I bet you can learn a lot by watching, anyway."

She only nodded and walked to one of the simple fold-up chairs and Darcy watched her get settled for a moment before smiling back at Clint.

"So where should we start, Clint?"

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Cordi was not an idiot.

Yes, she was young, and sometimes that made her impulsive, but as she watched the older man correct her mother's posture for about the millionth time in the last half hour, she was absolutely certain.

Clint was not happy she was there.

Maybe her mother had missed his words before their introduction, but Cordi had learned to pay attention when adults were speaking (she missed too much when she didn't, and then nobody ever told her anything, so she was lost), and it didn't take a genius to realize that he was hurt that Darcy hadn't mentioned her existence. She wasn't completely sure why she had been kept a secret --she hushed the voice that said it was because she was ashamed of her; Darcy's love and pride for her were the most obvious things in the world-- especially to the man whom she had her 'girl talks' with, but she didn't question it. Clint clearly did, however, and as she watched the tension on her mother's face with every harsh word from Clint's mouth, she almost wished that she had just stayed upstairs in their room.

Except she _was_ learning a lot, even just from watching, and if Clint didn't teach children --she wasn't sure if that was true or just his anger and hurt talking-- then she would simply teach herself. As much as Darcy tried to downplay it, Cordi knew that being in Stark Tower, and being in with the Avengers was a big thing. A dangerous thing. And how was she to contribute if she couldn't even protect herself? She would hate to become simply a liability. Plus, maybe she could even get Steve to practice with her.

She scowled as the thought crossed her mind. She was being ridiculous, of course. Ten-year-olds should not fall in love, even with their supposed soul mates. Though she did want to spend more time with him, using it as a way to get into his affections was petty and beneath her.

Maybe.

She had been _very_ interested to hear that her mother didn't consider Steve anything more than a friend, and one not easy to talk to at that. It appeared that the love was one-sided, and while a part of her ached on Steve's behalf, the rest of her was thrilled to pieces. She would never be able to compete with her mother's beauty and charm, and that she didn't have to was a bigger relief than she could say.

"Good grief, Lewis, have you learned anything these last weeks?"

Cordi was jolted from her reverie as Clint called out her mother, and the flicker of pain that crossed her mother's face was enough. She stood up, holding herself as tall as her four-foot-seven height could stretch, and stalked over to the pair. So involved were they in their lesson that they didn't even notice her approach until she punched Clint, harder than she ever had hit anything, in his bicep. Of course, strong as he was, it probably hurt her more than him, but the effect was the same. They both startled and stared down at her.

"Cordi, hon, what are you--"

"You're being a jerk, mister."

"Cordi!"

She ignored her mother's outrage and glared up at Clint.

"You're being a jerk," she said again. "You can be as upset as you want about me showing up without you knowing. That's fair. Okaa-san's told me you two have girl talks, and maybe it hurts that she didn't mention me, no matter her reasons. But that doesn't mean you can treat her that way. She's trying really hard to learn what you're teaching, and you're just being mean to her. I may just be a kid, but even I know that you can't learn things like that. If you want to be mad, save it."

Darcy's expression had turned from outrage to a sort of tender bewilderment as she looked between Cordi and Clint, and Clint stared down at her a moment, before sighing and rubbing a hand down his face.

"I can definitely see the family resemblance between you two," he muttered, and then a broken laugh escaped him. "You're right, toots. I'm sorry for giving off such a bad first impression. And I'm sorry to you, too, dollface," he turned to her, and shrugged. "You're really doing a great job. Sorry I'm a jerk."

Darcy laughed in surprise, and shook her head.

"I thought I was just exceptionally terrible today," she admitted and then sobered. "I'm sorry I didn't mention Cordi. And I'm sorry I didn't think about how upset you would be. Cordi is...well, I didn't anticipate her being part of this world, so it never occurred to me to mention her." She paused and then teased, "Though I'm surprised you didn't already know. You're slipping in your old age, Agent Barton."

He scowled, and Cordi noted the bright yellow strand connecting them and sighed in relief. Mad he might be, but they were definitely friends.

"I'm only thirty-three," he said, and even Cordi had to laugh at the obvious lie. He sent a glance her way, but a small smile peeked through his scowl. "So you want to learn the bow, too?"

"Even though you don't teach kids?" she challenged, and he sighed and reached to ruffle her hair.

"I'll make an exception for you. Though I don't think I have a bow small enough," he frowned, and she smiled, letting his touch soak into her as a thin yellow string materialized between them. It looked like they were going to be good friends, too.

"I hear Jarvis can get us anything," she suggested, and he laughed.

"You hear that, Jarv?"

"Yes, Agent Barton. I shall endeavor to find a bow suitable to Miss Cordelia's size."

"Thanks, man."

"Of course, Agent Barton."

Darcy smiled at the two of them before pulling Cordi into her side and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. The purple strand between them glowed brighter, and Cordi sighed and snuggled into her before glancing up at Clint.

"So, what are we trying to learn today?"

"Well, I was thinking that--"

They were interrupted as a man in a dark suit entered the range, looking like a spy from every cheesy spy movie Cordi had ever seen, and walked with purpose, and, it appeared, a little desperation, across the floor to them.

"Agent Stout," Clint nodded. "What can we do for you?"

"Actually, I'm here for Miss Lewis," the man said, and looked to Darcy. "I'm afraid you're needed in Lab Thirteen, ma'am."

Cordi watched as Darcy paled, and looked down at Cordi, a hint of fear crossing her expression, before she shook her head and smiled.

"Code Green?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I see. Clint?"

"I'll take care of the pipsqueak here."

"Hey," Cordi frowned, but Darcy only smiled.

"Thanks, Clint," she said, and followed the agent from the range.

Cordi stared after her a moment and then looked up at Clint. He looked calm, and almost relaxed, and she wondered if he was still mad or not, before she cocked her head to the side in contemplation. He also looked like he might be a bit of a pushover, and if he was as into girl talk as her mother said, then she might be able to spin this situation to her advantage.

"What's a Code Green?" she asked, widening her eyes in confusion and innocence, and Clint frowned down at her.

"I don't think now's the time for that, toots. Now, if I'm going to be teaching you, we should talk safety first, okay?"

Of course it couldn't be as easy as all that. Cordi repressed a sigh and smiled as he started in on what was clearly a rehearsed spiel. Ten minutes, she thought. Ten minutes, and she would be following her mother right out of that range. After all, part of being able to protect herself was knowing what was going on around there, right?

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Timing was everything, Darcy thought as she rode the elevator with the increasingly tense Agent Stout. He was a thin, unassuming gentleman, with nondescript blonde hair and watery gray eyes that served to make him completely unremarkable. Which, she thought, was probably why he had a level-5 clearance. And why he had been chosen to seek her out. He had an air about him that said _"I'm nobody, I'm nothing interesting, don't pay attention to me,"_ and so he was the perfect man to bring news which one might not wants others to know of.

"So what happened this time?"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure, Miss Lewis. Apparently Mr Stark went to speak to him, and within five minutes, he...changed."

_Hulked out, you mean_ , she thought, though she appreciated his tact. Others would be less kind, and she liked Stout more for it.

"Stark," she sighed, and shook her head even as a small smirk appeared on Stout's thin lips. "Why am I not surprised?"

She had barely finished the sentence before her stomach clenched. Just what had Tony told the good doctor? If he had mentioned Cordi...would that have done it? If this was another set-back...

Calm, she told herself, and set her shoulders back as the elevator arrived on the lab's floor, and she and Stout exited as one.

The roar nearly had her stepping back into the elevator, but she firmed her resolve and walked forward. Tony stood just outside the lab, cradling an arm to his chest, and she blinked in surprise. Whatever he had said, it must have made the Hulk _really_ mad. She noted the bleeding scratch on the left side of his forehead, and slowed her steps in wariness.

"Tony, what did you _do_?"

"Now she calls me by name," he muttered, and a smirk crossed his face even as his eyes apologized.

"Did he...are you...your _arm_ , Tony."

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "I don't think it's broken. And if it is, well...I'll be fine," he said again.

She winced at a crash from the lab, and sent a glare towards the door before setting it on Tony.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

_"Tony."_

He sighed, and brushed back the hair that was usually meticulously styled but now fell haphazardly over his forehead. He looked wrung out, and she would have said something if she couldn't see how much he hated himself at that moment. And it was very clear he did, from the darkness in his eyes, and the hunched over posture that she had never seen him wear before.

"I...I wanted to tell him the happy news."

"The happy--you told him about Cordi," she said, not even sure if she was really surprised at that fact. Of course he had; Tony loved gossip, and being first, well, that was everything he wanted, wasn't it?

"Well..."

"God, you're an idiot," she said, but there was no malice in her words, only resignation, and she shifted on her feet before facing the door once more. "I guess this puts a damper on our relationship, huh?"

" _He's_ the idiot, if he lets a cute kid like that get in the way of love."

She laughed, and shook her head fondly.

"Never figured you for a romantic, Tony."

"Just a nosey old mother-in-law, is that it?"

"Exactly," she grinned, and entered the lab in determination.

Only to stop at the utter destruction before her.

Every table overturned. Every piece of glass and equipment smashed. Files scattered across the room. Computers in a smoldering crunch of metal and wires. Toxic smoke rising from several holes melted in the floor, presumably from whatever concoctions he had been mixing that day. Darcy was stunned, flabbergasted. She was surprised to see Eva still alive, the small robot fluttering and whirring nervously along the edge of the room, narrowly avoiding the smashing and stalking of the large hulking beast in the room.

Was it really as hopeless as all that?

"Big Guy?" The growl as he turned to face her nearly shook the room, and she flinched, telling herself to stand her ground. "Uh, hi."

He growled again, but at least he stopped his prowling and pacing, and she took that as a good sign.

"So I hear Tony told you the good news?"

The force of his roar nearly knocked her off her feet, and she forced a laugh through her sudden terror. She didn't think he would hurt her, but she had never seen him this angry before.

"Don't be such a baby, Big Guy. What's the big deal?"

"DARCY LIED."

She opened her mouth in surprise, but found she couldn't refute his words. A lie of omission was still a lie, wasn't it?

"...so you're mad at me," she began, and his eyes narrowed as he nodded.

"WHY?"

It was kind of funny, she thought, having this conversation with the Big Guy when she probably should have had it with Dr Banner first. Why was it that she communicated with one so well and the other not at all?

"Um," she began, and then cleared her throat. "I thought we should have a few dates first before I broached the subject."

He stilled, as she had never seen him before, and she wondered that so much energy, so much anger, could be contained for even a moment as brief as that.

"DARCY WANT TO DATE HULK?"

He sounded so surprised that she wanted to smack him. Which would be a terrible idea, but maybe she could smack the doctor instead; that might make everything better.

"Yes," she replied simply.

A scowl crossed his face, then, and he growled, "DARCY WANT TO DATE _BANNER_."

"Well, yes to that, too. I like the _both_ of you."

He seemed to ponder that a moment before he settled down on the floor, and she took that as her cue to sit down as well, though she was careful to avoid any glass or toxic substances as she did so. Eva came whirring over to her almost immediately, kind of like a dog happy to see a friendly face, and Darcy laughed a little as she pet her hand over the top of the little robot.

"I think you scared Eva."

"HMPH," he scoffed, but she saw his eyes followed the movement of her hand.

"Thanks for not breaking her. Tony would probably be upset."

_So would I_ , she thought, though probably not as much as Tony, considering she wasn't the type to become mother to a piece of machinery, however charming its personality might be. Give her the real thing any day.

"TONY," he growled again, and she sighed.

"Yes, Tony. He did find out about her first, after all. And that's not my fault," she added, when he looked like he might shout at her again. "He woke me up at six am, and woke her with me. He was blathering on about some cake they had made for Thor's party."

"GOOD CAKE."

A smile started across her lips and she cocked her head to the side in contemplation.

"Well, that's nice. Though he could have waited for a decent hour before springing the idea on me. I mean, really, who wakes somebody up that early for _cake_ , it's just--"

"DARCY TELL HULK ABOUT BABY."

She blinked at the interruption, and then sighed. Maybe talking about it would calm him down.

"Okay. Well, her name is Cordelia. Though I call her Cordi."

"COR-DI?" he said slowly, and she smiled.

"That's right. And she's not a baby, exactly. She's ten. I, uh, had her when I was sixteen."

She blushed as he stared at her, from her stomach to her face and back again, and he frowned down at her.

"DARCY HAVE BABY IN HIGH SCHOOL?"

"That's right," she nodded, glad he seemed not to be fussing over the details. "And I've been raising her with my Mom ever since --that's where she was these last months, back in Arizona."

"BUT COR-DI HERE NOW?"

"That's right. She's here now."

"AND FATHER?"

She paled at the question, and the sudden intensity in his eyes showed that he saw it, but she only shook her head.

"He's not in the picture."

"SO DARCY _NOT_ IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE?"

"In love with--oh my God," she laughed, sudden clarity breaching her mind. "That's why you threw a fit? Because you thought I was, what, two-timing you?"

"HULK NOT THROW FIT," he said mulishly and she laughed again.

"Yeah, because you staying calm is exactly what destroyed your lab." He only scowled at her, and as her terror finally ebbed completely away, she found herself asking, "So you're _not_ upset that I have a kid? Just that you thought I was with someone else." The nod was slow in coming, but when it did, she felt her heart sing, and she grinned widely. "Well, alright then."

She stood up again, and walked slowly toward him, Eva dogging her steps, and had almost reached her hand out to his arm when a voice spoke behind her, and she found herself freezing in terror once more.

"Um, Okaa-san, is this what you call a Code Green?"


	10. Pro: Not All Monsters Are Monsters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, all!
> 
> Your encouragement means everything to me, and I'm so glad you are all enjoying my work. :)  
> This chapter is a little shorter than the last ones, only because I wanted the next section to be more separate than just a few spaces between paragraphs could give me. I hope you enjoy it, brief as it may be.
> 
> Cheers.

Cordi could make friends with pretty much anyone.

When she was just four years old, she had befriended the old lady down the street, a Mrs Robinson, who had been offended that 'trash like that girl' had lived so near her. Darcy had been terrified when she realized where she had wandered off to, knowing exactly what the old lady thought of unwed mothers, but when she had rushed over, stopping just at the edges of the meticulously kept garden where Cordi was digging happily in the dirt, Mrs Robinson had smiled up at her, and told her how charming her daughter was, and that she should join her in her garden more often.

(Needless to say, her easy camaraderie with the lady who was routinely called 'that old bat' by several of the neighborhood folks became legend, and Cordi was both admired and feared for it.)

Aside from Mrs Robinson, she had befriended, to name a few, a cranky old hound dog that bit most other visiters, the driver of the bus that stopped on the corner of 17th and Poly every morning at eight, a couple of sisters who though they loved Cordi could not stand each other, the rowdy teenage boys that haunted the parking lot outside the mall, twenty of the twenty-two students in her first through fourth-grade classes (the resisting two were a pair of twin boys who never made friends with anyone because they thought no one could tell them apart, even if Cordi had proved that she could --once was a fluke, twice was luck, and three times was some strange anomaly), the homeless man who lived on the bench outside the library, a wild raccoon (or two, though Darcy blocked out those friendships as best she could in an effort to forget the damage that had been done by Cordi's new 'friends'), and a small cat rather aptly named Demon.

There were exceptions, of course, aside from the twins. Though she loved her in her own fashion, she had never truly been able to be friends with her Aunt Olive. She wasn't sure if it was their age difference, or the drinking, or something to do with a conversation she had overheard about Olive not being able to have children, but they had never really found a way to connect, even when Cordi started reading and showed some small interest in Olive's romance novels. Then there was her third-grade music teacher, who had been offended by Cordi's notion that the recorder wasn't really a worthwhile instrument, and thus hated her on principle. (Darcy, who had had a similar experience with that teacher in her own primary school years, told her not to worry about the woman, and gave her a book on mathematical principles in music to distract her.) And, finally, there was Mimi's boyfriend, Archie.

Archie was an interesting case. He was polite, friendly, and, upon their first meeting and in the weeks that followed, had tried to befriend her, bringing her ice cream or coloring books when he visited, and always asking how school was going. Yet, from the beginning, Cordi had felt there was something off, and then she had started seeing those strings, and as the greenish strands appeared between them, she had known in an instant. Cordi was just a means to an end, and when it came down to it, Archie didn't see her as a friend, or even someone worthy of his attention; he saw her as an enemy. And how was Cordi supposed to make friends with an enemy?

It seemed she wasn't supposed to, she'd discovered, and as she watched the pink strand between herself and Mimi become edged with green as well, she knew it was only a matter of time before something changed.

_Changed for the better_ , she thought, as she wandered down the hall of the thirteenth floor.

It was funny; she thought that most places didn't have a thirteenth floor, let alone a Lab Thirteen, but she was getting the feeling that this place was anything but normal. Ten minutes of listening to Clint go on about the proper way to care for a bow had told her that and more, and it wasn't just to follow her mother that she asked if she could go to the bathroom. She had known people who treated inanimate objects like their children, but Clint took it to a whole new level.

_Learning to shoot is going to be fun_ , she thought, and paused as she saw that man from this morning, what was his name again? sitting outside a door with a big number thirteen above it. He looked tired, and in pain, and was he _bleeding_? She started to wonder if maybe she shouldn't have just stayed down in the basement with Clint; curiosity killed the cat, after all.

_But no one will tell you if you don't figure it out yourself first_ , a small voice told her, and she stood a little straighter as she walked past the man.

"Hey, what are you--"

She lost the end of his exclamation as she saw her mother walking slowly toward a giant hulking... _Hulk_.

Three things were immediately clear.

Staying with Clint, even to hear about bow care, was probably her safest bet if she was going to stay here.

Her mother didn't just work with the Avengers, she worked with the Avengers, to a rather dangerous degree.

The Hulk and her mother were soul mates.

"Um, Okaa-san, is this what you call a Code Green?"

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

The top three scariest moments in Darcy's life were as follows: the first being hearing the doctors in the delivery room say " _She's not breathing_ ," the second being the moment of Cordelia's conception, and the third, the third was hearing Cordi behind her during a Code Green.

(Walking into a lab unawares to be faced with a giant green rage monster destroying the place fell to number four.)

She felt frozen in place, and willed herself to turn around, to grab Cordi and race out the door, to slap Clint upside the head because what the _hell_ had he been thinking letting Cordi up here? but she couldn't move a muscle. Wasn't there supposed to be some sort of 'fight or flight' instinct going on? Only this was more like a nightmare, one of the REM-cycle moments where you were completely paralyzed, and no matter how much you wanted to run from the monsters in your dream, you could only stand and wait for the kill.

_Turn around, damn it!_ she thought to herself, but remained still, captured by the terrible fear welling in the pit of her stomach.

A slow rumbling coming from the creature in front of her only intensified her terror, and she thought, _God almighty, please help me_ , before the rumbling ceased, and the Hulk said, "COR-DI?"

The rough two syllables broke her from her trance, and Darcy turned, and slammed into Cordi with more force than necessary as she grabbed her to her chest and ran out of the room, ignoring the "Oof!" from the little girl in her arms as she started down the hall, ignoring Tony's exclamation from behind her. She was almost to the emergency exit when Cordi's voice broke through her flight.

"Okaa-san. Kaa-san. MOTHER!"

Darcy blinked as she looked down at the scowling young girl in her arms, and realized she was shaking.

"Cordi, I--"

"I think he wants to talk to us."

She pointed over her shoulder, and Darcy looked back, only to freeze as she saw the Hulk walking toward them, unperturbed by the SHIELD agents holding guns on him, or Tony trying futilely to pull him back. He stopped his movement when he noticed her looking back at him and cocked his head to the side in a curious manner. Darcy's hold on Cordi tightened, and she took a slow step to the exit, anything to get her precious baby away from the volatile creature in front of her.

A part of her told her she was being irrational; she had just been having a civil conversation with him, and had been about to reach out and touch him herself. The rest of her had fallen prey to her mothering instincts, and no amount of civil discourse could convince her that Cordi wasn't in danger with him. His entire being was centered on rage, wasn't it? What kind of mother would she be if she let her daughter near him?

_What kind of mother_ are _you?_

She winced at the voice, and scowled at the Hulk.

"Mine," she whispered, but she knew he could hear her, and his cautious expression showed it.

"COR-DI--"

"Mine," she said again, only to falter as Cordi pinched her arm. "Cordi, what--"

"Geez, okaa-san, what's wrong with you?"

"What's--" It was her turn to scowl, and she did so as she looked down at her daughter. "What's _wrong_ with me? You're in danger. I'm getting you out of danger. I--"

"Okaa-san. I don't think he's dangerous."

It must be hereditary, she thought, this sort of insanity that drew the Lewis women to trouble.

"Don't think he's--Cordi, do you know what he is?"

Turquoise eyes that she both loved and hated looked up at her seriously, and she nodded.

"He's the Hulk, right?"

"Yes. And you know what that means, don't you?"

"Well, he's not a monster, or what would he be doing with the Avengers?"

The pragmatic question brought her up short, and Darcy looked back to where the Hulk had sat down in the middle of the hallway, simply looking at her and Cordi in curiosity, and Darcy suddenly felt ashamed. Cordi was absolutely right. He wasn't a monster, no matter what triggered his transformation, and if she believed that, she was no better than those army bastards that wanted him locked up for the rest of eternity.

"Cordi," she began, and then stopped. What was she supposed to say? "I don't--"

"He's not going to hurt me, Mom," she said quietly, brushing away tears that Cordy didn't even realize had fallen, and Darcy started to laugh.

"No, he won't. Well, if you don't surprise him."

"And I won't," she said firmly, and Darcy believed her. "I mean, look at him, Kaa-san. He's like a big teddy bear, sitting there like that." Darcy laughed again, and finally set the girl down. "And ouch, by the way," she added, rubbing at where Darcy had been gripping her arm.

"Sorry. I panicked."

"No kidding."

Cordi started around her, only to pause, and look back at Darcy, and suddenly she looked just like the little girl she was, biting her lip, and Darcy knelt down beside her.

"Want me to hold your hand?"

"I'm not a baby," she began, but Darcy only smiled and held out her hand and asked again.

"Want me to hold your hand?"

The small hand that went into hers was shaking --or maybe that was hers, she didn't know. All she knew was that, as terrified as she still was, she couldn't protect her daughter from everything. Maybe she hadn't wanted her involved in the Avengers and SHIELD business, but Mimi had made that impossible, and so here she was. And here was the man-creature-whatever he was of her dreams, sitting calmly amidst shooters and Tony --and staying calm near Tony was a near-herculean effort, she thought, smiling a little-- and just waiting for her to make the introduction.

The worst he could do, really --and she knew Cordi was right; he wouldn't hurt her-- was decide he didn't like her. And Darcy was confident enough in her abilities, and Cordi's temperament, that she could change that in a heartbeat.

"Cordi," she began as they entered the Hulk's space, "this is the Big Guy. Big Guy, this is Cordi."

He reached out his hand, slowly, she noted, and Cordi only paused for half a second before she put her own in his, and suddenly the subtle tension that only a mother could see in her face was gone, as was the tension in her hand in hers, and Darcy almost thought she saw a yellow string tying porcelain hand to green before it disappeared, and the only thing she could see was Cordi's big grin, as she said, "Sup, Big Guy?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et voilá.
> 
> No, I don't usually add end notes, but I just wanted to say something about that last paragraph...
> 
> Cordi's affinity for seeing strings of fate, strings that tie us together, is simple...only for now. As she grows, things will change, and though still early in her development, I decided to add one little thing: if she is holding someone's hand when she makes a connection, they, too, can see that string...briefly. I may extend the period, or make it something that only those who have the more intense relations (specifically Red, which is of course for soul mates, and Purple, which is familial, but in the way of unconditional love (Mimi's was obviously not unconditional) and very rare) with her can see...but we'll see.
> 
> Again, thanks for reading, and I hope you stay with me.
> 
> Cheers.


	11. Prelude 002 - All Hallows Lingering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for all the kudos and comments; I couldn't go on without you all!  
> I am working on the direct continuation, but I was inspired by the holiday...  
> (And I understand I'm a few days late, but the last bit technically is AFTER-holiday, so I'm saying it works.)  
> And as the timing in my story doesn't fit (I do believe it's some time in May right now), I decided to do some flashbacks...  
> Plus a little flash-forward.  
> Spoiler alert?
> 
> Cheers.

"No."

"Bruce--"

_"No."_

When Tony had entered the lab that morning dressed like a pirate, Bruce had shrugged it off and attributed it to Tony being Tony. Every day was a production, after all. But then he started talking Halloween and parties and costumes...and now he was saying he wanted Bruce to join him, as someone named Davy Jones that was _not_ one of the Monkees, but that's as far as he had gotten before he shut it down.

"Come on, Bruce. Why not get into the spirit of things? We'd make an awesome team, you and I."

"Thanks, but no thanks," he muttered, and scribbled a new formula in his notes. He was so close, but there was something not quite there.

"When's the last time you dressed up for Halloween, Bruce?"

"Ninth grade," he repeated flatly, and scribbled out the same formula. That would throw his math completely out of whack. But maybe this one would do...

"Seriously? I would have at least gone all through high school. If I went to high school, that is. I mean, how long can you con people out of candy without them giving you hell for it?"

"I thought the same thing. And then a couple of football players decided it would be fun to string the science geek up the flagpole and leave him overnight. I stopped trick-or-treating after that."

"Well, damn." Tony paused and asked, "What were you dressed as?"

"Einstein."

Tony blinked, and his lips twitched, but he managed not to laugh, and for that, Bruce gave him all the credit in the world. It had been a stupid idea, he had known it even then, but it was his freshman year of high school, and he had gotten caught up in all the Halloween merriment, and figured he would be praised for his intelligence. Einstein was brilliant, after all. Except not everyone appreciated the theory of relativity quite like Bruce did, and certain people were quite demonstrative of their negative opinions.

"Well, Davy Jones won't get you beat up, if that's what you're worried about."

"Tony," he sighed, but he was smiling. "I have work to do. I may have found a suitable substitute for that serum Dr Connors was working on."

What Bruce privately termed 'the light of science' lit Tony's eyes, and he sat on the lab table next to the notebook he had been writing in.

"No kidding? But hey, wasn't that just a temporary fix? I mean, obviously the Big Guy came back when you slammed into the ground."

"Obviously," he smiled wryly, but shook his head. "Temporary initially, perhaps. But if I tweak the ratios a bit, I might be able to come up with something more permanent."

"Permanent," Tony repeated, frowning. He looked unsure, but Bruce just waited, certain that he would start asking about what he was mixing up, only to pause as he asked, "What about the Avengers initiative? I mean, I'm awesome, of course, and the others aren't half bad, but come on. New York would have been an even bigger disaster without you there. Not to mention you saved my life at the end there," he added with a smile, and Bruce sighed.

"I understand there are ways to utilize him for good, but I really think it would be safer if--"

"Utilize? The hell kind of talk is that, Bruce? You're part of this team, for better or worse. We need you, no matter how 'useful' you might be."

His expression was so earnest, Bruce almost felt like he might tear up before he shook his head.

"I just want to be normal, Tony," he said softly, and there was a pause before Tony laughed, and he jolted in surprise.

"Fuck normal. You're a superhero, man. Hell, you're an _action figure_ , did you know that?"

"But I--"

"And you're not a danger to us, Bruce," he added, soberly. "You only Hulk out a small percentage of the time, and you are more asset than anything. Plus I'm pretty sure normal people aren't experts in gamma radiation. They don't have the mental capacity."

Bruce huffed out a laugh and sighed.

"I hate you, Tony."

"Of course. So about you playing Davy to my Jack--"

_"No."_

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"No."

"But Mimi said you would--"

_"No."_

Darcy didn't even bother opening her eyes as she lay back in the old recliner her dad used to sit in, quite content to pretend she could not feel those big beautiful turquoise eyes sending her waves of nine-year-old misery over her refusal to go out trick-or-treating with the girl. It wasn't that she was against it, exactly; she had been trick-or-treating with Cordi since the very first Halloween, where she had been dressed as the most adorable Piglet in creation (Darcy had been dressed as Tigger), and she had initially planned to do so again this year. However, even she had her limits.

"Please?"

One eye cracked open, and Darcy winced at the pleading expression on her daughter's face. Yes, she had her limits, but there were other limits, too, and Cordi knew just how to push them.

"You can't be serious, Cord."

"I made the costumes myself, Mama."

"Don't you 'Mama,' me," Darcy retorted, but sighed and sat up straighter. "You made them yourself?"

"Well, Aunt Olive helped," she shrugged. "She's on a sober kick this week."

"Cordelia--"

"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, and ducked her head, before peeking out from under dark bangs. "But she helped, and they look really beautiful."

"Of course they do."

Her words were more than exasperated; Olive had been interested in dress-making and fashion since she was a little girl, and had mastered the art of sewing by the time she was twelve. She had sewn both her junior and senior prom dresses, as well as Darcy's, and a majority of Cordi's baby and toddler clothes. Though her 'sober kicks' were few and far between these days, there was no reason to think that her skill had decreased any.

"Please, please, _please_?" Cordi begged, grabbing onto her hand now. "I swear, we'll be the most awesome trick-or-treaters ever."

Darcy laughed, and found herself rising. It had been inevitable, really.

"So which one am I again?"

Cordi's grin was wide and contagious, and Darcy wondered how she had ever said no to the girl in the first place.

"You're the Lady Sif, of course."

"Oh, of course."

"And I'm Hogun." Darcy laughed again, and ruffled the girl's dark hair, even when she scowled up at her. "We copied the outfits from the photos you took as best we could--"

"I'm sure they're great, hon. So who's playing Volstagg and Fandral, then? I can't imagine Mimi wanting to play a boy."

"Mimi's not coming this year," she shrugged, and Darcy paused in her steps to take that in before the girl went on. "Uncle Kurtis is Fandral. He insisted."

"Oh, did he?" she grinned, and the girl grinned in return.

"And you know Uncle Geoff? He's going to be Volstagg."

She thought of her brother's best friend since kindergarten, six foot seven and three hundred pounds, and had no trouble picturing him as the towering Norseman.

"So we're going trick-or-treating with Uncle Kurtis and Geoff," she said, and glanced down at her watch. It was only three, and ridiculous to go out before seven, but knowing Olive, her outfit would probably take at least that long to get into. "I hope you know what you're doing, Cord."

"I always know what I'm doing," the nine-year-old replied haughtily, and Darcy rolled her eyes before she added, "And next year, we discuss our outfits together? Lady Sif is pretty banging, hon, but I am _not_ a demigod."

"Well, it was either that or the Cutie Mark Crusaders, and Olive didn't want to sew horse costumes."

_Or have to join us trick-or-treating to give us all three ponies_ , Darcy thought with a small smile, which grew as she imagined trying to convince Kurtis to dress up as Sweetie Belle or Applebloom (because Cordi had been adamant since the very beginning that she was Scootaloo), and asked, "So how much did this year set us back, Cord?"

"I think you're really gonna like your costume, Mama," Cordi responded, and Darcy's smile faltered a little in suspicion.

"Cordi--"

"Oh, and I can help you curl your hair, Mama, and do that little half-crown braid thing she had, and..."

She went on, but Darcy stopped listening as she wondered if she had checked their savings jar lately, though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

_No._

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

It was funny, how different everyone was and yet how much like a family they all looked.

Pepper and Tony stood front and center, in a Tarzan and Jane get-up that Darcy was pretty sure was made from real leopard skin, though she didn't say anything for fear of causing Cordi to tear up in dismay. (Cordi had been on a vegetarian kick for the last month after watching a Discovery Channel documentary on illegal fur trading and poaching in the Amazon rainforest.) Tony was almost indecent, but it was Tony, so no one had said anything, though there had been a few eyebrows raised at his costume until Pepper had shown up at his side in her matching skintight dress.

Just behind Tony's left shoulder was Natasha, who had painted herself green a la Elphaba, though that plus the hat and broomstick were her only concessions to tradition: she still wore a cat suit. _"What? Do you know how hard it is to sit a broomstick sidesaddle?"_ Clint had no complaints, looking worshipful as he knelt beside her in his flying monkey costume. Strangely enough he didn't look ridiculous, but attractive, and Darcy kind of wondered how he pulled it off.

On Tony and Pepper's other side were Thor and Jane, who, after much pleading on Cordi's part, had agreed to dress as Kristoff and Princess Anna. Jane, who had tinted her brown hair red for the occasion, had even offered to sing, but Darcy knew better and had cut her off before she could. Thor stood proudly with one arm around Jane, the other on the head of a golden retriever with reindeer antlers and a dopey puppy smile.

And then, there was the four of them. Bruce had Hulked out for the occasion --more pleading on Cordi's part, which, though he cited the dangers and at least twenty-six things that could go wrong, won out in the end-- though even he was decked out in a beautiful suit fashioned after the Beast, which Tony had insisted upon professional tailoring for after hearing of the plan. Darcy was Belle, gold gown and all, and she laughed a little as she remembered the hours that Cordi had spent fussing with her hair. She looked, to her chagrin, a little tired, but happy, even as her gaze was focused not on her Beast but on the feather duster and candelabra beside her.

Steve had been confused at first by the request, and then amused after watching the movie, but when Cordi mentioned she would be dressing as his romantic counterpart, he had nearly boycotted the whole thing. It had taken great patience, and she had nearly succumbed to tears herself as she watched the ten-year-old go pale and bright-eyed, but she had managed to convince him that it was really just for fun, and after all, Cordi was only ten. It wasn't like she was going to be dressed as some sleek seductress after all. She wore a traditional maid's cap over the hair she painstakingly curled, and though the skirt of her dress was mostly feathers, it was far from indecent, and she looked exactly like what she was: a ten-year-old dressed up as a DIsney character for Halloween. If the look in her eyes as she gazed up at the man behind her was perhaps a little more adult, well, she looked at him that way on normal days, too, and him dressing as Lumière would not change that. (Not to mention he looked great, and managed to pull off that egotistical attitude well enough that even Tony didn't laugh when he quoted a few select lines from the film.)

Darcy shook her head and sighed, wondering how she could get Steve to relax, only to jump at the hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry, babe," Bruce chuckled, and she relaxed back into him as he put his head on her shoulder. "What's that?"

"Tony sent it over. He got our Halloween pictures developed. There's more in the envelope there," she said, gesturing to the manila envelope and the few photos scattered around it on the coffee table.

"Huh. Looks good."

"Yeah."

"And in that dress, you can't even tell you're--"

"Bruce."

He chuckled, and pressed a soft kiss to her neck.

"You look beautiful. Though I still think I could have pulled off the Beast on my own."

"It's all that messy hair, right?" she teased, and pushed away from him to sit beside the table. She picked up the couple's photo that Cordi had stubbornly insisted upon, and had she but known it, her frown matched the girl's when she had glared up at Steve just as he started to say no. "Any idea what we're going to do about this?"

"Um, take it slow? She's only ten, Darce."

"And that's the problem, in Steve's mind, anyway," she returned. "I just hate that he had to figure it out like he did."

"He's an idiot."

"Bruce."

"He is," he shook his head, and pointed at the picture. "He adores that girl just as much as the rest of us, and then suddenly Thor's mother shows up with her strings of fate thing, and he's avoiding her like the plague. I may not be Cordi's father, but even I want to kill the bastard."

" _Bruce_ ," she chided, but she was starting to smile. "He did agree to the costume in the end."

"Yeah," he sighed, and pulled her back into the couch with him. "We make a great family, right?"

Darcy smiled at the softly spoken question, hand drifting down to her stomach and leaned her head into his chest.

"Yeah. All of us, from Tony on down to Natasha."

"Ugh. I don't know if I want Tony to be part of the family if he's going to dress like _that_ for a family picture."

Darcy laughed quickly and grinned up at him.

"Well, we have eleven months and three weeks to convince him to wear something more appropriate. We could go Disney all the way, if you like. I bet Natasha would love to be Maleficent, or Cruella de Vil, even."

"And Clint will follow whatever she says," he nodded in agreement, smiling back.

"And Jane and Thor are already on board the Disney train. And who knows what movies will come out this year that we can use for inspiration?"

"Exactly. Though next year..." He paused, and she paused with him, waiting, until he asked hopefully, "Can I be normal? Like, _not_ Hulk out? Cuz I could make a good Prince Eric or Snow White's Prince, even, or..."

She could already hear Cordi's reply in her head, and grinned wide as she said the only thing she could.

_"No."_


	12. Con: The Next-Door Neighbor Is Kind of an Indecisive...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hannukah, Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year to you all...  
> Life is interesting.  
> And fun.  
> And dramatic.  
> And I thank you for your patience in the midst of it all.  
> Enjoy the latest update.  
> (And watch for a little Christmas side-series to be added in the next few hours...better late than never, yes?)  
> Cheers.

A lot of people thought that Bruce couldn't remember what happened when he turned into the Other Guy.

That wasn't strictly true.

Sure, those first few transformations had left him disoriented and feeling like he was coming out of a nightmare...well, the first few years, if he was being honest. And though that dream-like, nightmare quality still remained, rather than having just the feeling of it, it was like being woken mid-REM cycle, and it was as clear as glass what had happened while he was out.

For instance, he remembered going to town on Harlem, and on that abomination Blonsky. That had been both amazing and terrifying --starting with falling from a helicopter to the ground and not knowing if he would actually transform. He would have said it hurt, but the Other Guy tended to be more irritated than effected by pain, so he brushed the instance aside. That night was clear as glass, however, for more reasons than that it had been the last time he had had any dealings with either member of the Ross family.

He remembered everything about the invasion of New York --including the prequel where he had that little showdown with Thor. The demigod had told him to think, and he had been, though it was more along the lines of _'Why the hell did you guys bring me here if not to put me in a cage?'_ so he wasn't exactly in a make peace, not war mood. And then he was fighting aliens, smashing through walls...that had been a good day, considering.

A good day made better by slamming that jackass Loki into the floor of Tony's barroom.

" _I am a god_ ," indeed.

He remembered, too, everything about brushing Darcy out of the way when Dummy surprised him in the lab that one time. That had been less of a good day; he was set off in the first place by this new serum he was trying out, something to calm him down which had only succeeded in making him angry --or angrier than usual, anyway-- and BAM, there was the Other Guy. He might have calmed himself down that time, if Darcy hadn't wandered in, giving her whole 'Alright, Big Guy' speech...or maybe even then. But then Dummy sounded the alarm, and though he was fully aware of what was happening, the Other Guy tended to shoot first, ask questions later, and so Darcy had ended up with a broken arm, cracked ribs...he still shuddered at the memory.

And then there was Cordelia.

Darcy's daughter.

It was turning out to be a good day; chemicals were reacting well, he had managed to remember his own coffee (and wouldn't Darcy be proud of him for that?), and speaking of Darcy, he had had almost a dance with her the night before.

The 'almost' made him frown, but he shook it off. Things were weird between them, and he never knew if following her whims would lead to paradise or insanity, but knowing Darcy, she would make up for the botched attempt and have them dancing the night away before he knew it.

And then Tony had come in, blathering like an idiot, but he had mostly managed to ignore him...until he mentioned Darcy's daughter.

It was irrational; he _knew_ it was. Though he was discovering the strange attraction between them was mutual, it wasn't like they really had any agreement between them. Everything was still new and awkward, and heaven help him, but most of that awkward was all his fault. Any progress they had made was all on Darcy.

Yet...

The jealousy had flown through him in an instant, and the term 'green-eyed monster' took on new meaning as he let loose his anger.

As he stood in the wreckage that had been his lab, Bruce wondered if that old master of his in Brazil would take him back as a student. He had told Natasha once that his secret to control was being always angry, but it hadn't always been that way, and maybe he wouldn't have been set off so easily today if he hadn't had that anger festering beneath the surface in the first place.

"How much do I owe you?"

Tony had just stepped up beside him, arm in a sling and a bandage covering where they had stitched up his forehead, but despite the injuries, he looked as smug and cocksure as ever as he raised a brow at him.

"You're kidding, right? This is paradise compared to Harlem."

A smile tugged at Bruce's lips at the image his words brought up, but he shook his head.

"That was a joint effort. Not to mention the Big Guy was trying to save the day. _This_ , this is--"

"Just one of the hazards of science. Things blow up in labs all the time, right?"

"Tony, this wasn't--"

"Bruce." Just his name, but his tone was so serious that Bruce stopped and looked at his friend and fellow scientist. There was no judgement, no anger, in his expression, and even his perpetual smirk had eased as he looked back at him. "This was not your fault."

"But I--"

"This was not your fault," he said again. "I'm the jackass that brought up mini-D. I mean, I _knew_ you two had a thing, but I just wanted to be first to tell you and I...I'm an idiot," he shrugged, and Bruce laughed out loud.

"Well, that makes two of us. I should probably look into anger management classes or something..."

"Hey, what'd I tell you when we first met? Big fan of the giant green rage monster."

"Even when he breaks your arm?" he asked dryly, and Tony shrugged.

"Six weeks healing tops. And you broke it in a good place. Nice, clean fracture, they tell me."

"Small miracles," he murmured, and sighed. "Let me at least help with the clean-up, Tony."

"And deprive my robots of all this fun?" he stared at him, and Bruce saw the smirk return to his eyes, at least. "Nah, you want to help with anything, you can help me figure out what equipment you need. God knows I never do any work around here--"

"No kidding," Bruce grinned slowly, but Tony went on, ignoring him.

"And I have no idea what was in here before you smashed it all to smithereens. Though Jarvis probably has some sort of inventory we can look up, but I hear shopping with your best friend is supposed to be fun, so why not indulge, right?"

Bruce stared at him a moment before saying slowly, "You realize you've just relegated us to a couple of teenage girls."

"I did not," Tony scowled, and Bruce's grin returned.

"Yes, you did. And since when am I your best friend?"

Tony stumbled back, hand clutched to his chest, and gaped at him in apparent dismay.

"Brucie. How could you? I thought we were Science Bros!"

Bruce could actually hear the capital letters in the term, and he laughed, and put an arm around him, careful not to jostle the broken one, and shook his head.

"Fine, fine, we're science bros. So when are we going shopping?"

"Tomorrow should be soon enough."

"Tomorrow? But we should get a head start on--"

"Today you are going to have dinner with D and mini-D." When Bruce froze, he went on, "I already made the arrangements. There'll be a car coming by in about..." he paused to look at his watch, "An hour and a half. Which means you have just enough time to shower and make yourself pretty."

"Tony, I don't think--"

"Hey, you already broke the ice with the Big Guy." He vividly remembered that small hand easing into his, and he shook his head, even as Tony said, "Why not use it as a stepping stone?"

"Tony, be rational."

"Never."

A small smile crossed his lips, but he shook his head again.

"I can't be around her anymore."

Tony eased back and stared at him.

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. Look at this lab, Tony."

"Yes, but--"

"And just think what could happen if I went off while she was around. We already know that my reflexes aren't as controlled when I turn. I hurt Darcy once already."

"That was--"

"I'm not going to risk hurting C--" he broke off before he said her name. Though he had calmed enough to return to normal after their introduction, Darcy had hustled the little girl away to give him some privacy, and though she had smiled when she said she would see him later, Bruce knew she wasn't stupid enough to let their association continue. She had tried to keep the child away from him initially, after all, hadn't she? No, it was better if they kept their distance. "I'm not going to hurt her daughter, too."

"Of all the idiotic...Bruce, you can't do this."

"Can't I? I'm doing the sensible thing, here. And I think Darcy would appreciate that."

"I think Darcy's going to kick your ass. You two are the real deal, and if you weren't such a scaredy cat, you'd probably already be married and popping out your own babies. And you want to put things on hold _again_?"

"Married? And _babies_?" Bruce gaped at him before sighing. "You're delusional, Tony, science bro or otherwise. Darcy and I are just friends. And speaking of friends, what do you say we go shopping?"

Tony glared at him a moment, before shaking his head.

"Nope. We're doing that tomorrow. I'm not cancelling my reservations. You and Darcy and mini-D. An hour and a half. And if you screw this up, Banner," he added, jabbing a finger at his chest, "I'm going to kick your ass once Darcy's finished with it."

With that, he turned and stalked out of Lab Thirteen, leaving Bruce in the middle of the wreckage, and in the middle of what might be the biggest crisis in his life:

Dinner or no dinner?

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

Dinner or no dinner? Darcy thought, and sighed. She forced a smile to her lips as Cordi looked up at her from across the table, but the smile fell when she returned to the meal before her. It would have been silly to make the young girl wait to eat just so they could all dine together when the third member of their party showed up...except Darcy had come to the conclusion that their third member was not going to show at all.

When Tony had suggested a 'Welcome to New York' dinner, Darcy had laughed. When he had mentioned a certain scruffy-haired scientist joining them, she had accused him of outright matchmaking.

" _So you_ don't _want him to get to know you and the kid, then?_ "

She couldn't agree with him, so she had put on a kelly green dress and braided Cordi's hair, and when a driver had arrived to take them to their destination, she hadn't put up a fuss, and had even mused with Cordi about what kind of restaurant Tony would have chosen. That he had picked the most stereotypical Italian restaurant imaginable, something straight out of _Lady and the Tramp_ , was not lost on the two of them, and they had erupted in giggles when their server introduced himself as Luigi and started talking up the house spaghetti. Still, stereotype or not, it was perfect, a perfect welcome, and a perfectly sedate and low-key setting for Cordi and Bruce to get to know each other.

If he had bothered to show, that is.

"Are you sure I cannot get you anything, miss?"

Darcy looked up at their server, a young man probably no older than her, with a lilting accent and pretty brown eyes, and she wished that the eyes were a little darker, a little brooding...or that she could get over her stupid infatuation and just be done with the man.

"No, thank you. I'm not really hungry tonight. This is more for her," she nodded toward Cordi, and the server smiled politely and gave a short bow before walking away.

Everything was for her, if she thought about it. Though it might have seemed counter-productive in hindsight, leaving her behind in New Mexico was for her. Taking classes toward her masters was for her. Trying to cultivate a relationship with the Doctor, well, maybe it was for Darcy...but it was also for Cordi. She wanted her to have a good father-type-figure around, wanted her to see what a real man was supposed to be. And sure, she had Kurtis and her grandfather for that, but they were absent ninety percent of the time, and Cordi needed something full-time.

If Bruce didn't want that, though...

Darcy shook off the thought and smiled at the ten-year-old chowing down on what she had sworn was actually the greatest spaghetti in all creation. So what if Bruce was out of the picture? Cordi was just fine. And if she became friends with Clint, and with Steve, well, she'd be even better. Even Tony wasn't all that bad, if he could control himself a little around her. He had managed not to curse in her presence today, so that was something.

"You okay, kaa-san?"

Darcy smiled as Cordi looked up and tilted her head to the side.

"I'm fine, Cord. I'm just really not hungry."

"You sure? Cuz this spaghetti is awesome. Like so awesome."

Darcy laughed a little, but shook her head.

"No, I'm good. But thanks."

"Your loss," she shrugged, and dug into the pasta again. It had always amazed Darcy, how much Cordi could pack away. Of course, she was a growing girl, and she needed something to keep that energy going. But when Darcy had found out she was having a girl, she had assumed she would be a light eater like herself. Not a garbage disposal like Kurtis had been when he was a teenager...and still was, actually, now she thought about it.

"Did your appetite grow since last year?" she asked with a frown and Cordi rolled her eyes before she swallowed.

"Come on, kaa-san. It takes a lot of energy out of you, being a--" she stopped, her face going pale for a split second before she went on, making Darcy wonder if she had seen it at all, "being a ten-year-old. It's tough."

"You've been ten for less than two months," Darcy said drily, but Cordi only shrugged again.

"You clearly don't remember being ten," she muttered, and Darcy laughed.

"Oh I remember a lot. Mimi was freaking out about Kurtis being in school full-time, Olive was freaking out about middle-school drama, and Kurtis was playing with Power Rangers."

Cordi stopped, fork halfway to her mouth and stared.

"Power Rangers? Really?"

"Yes, really," Darcy smiled. "He'll deny it to the end of his days, but he really had a thing for the Pink Ranger."

Cordi laughed, turquoise eyes shining with delight, and Darcy thought to herself, _Maybe a dinner alone with her isn't that bad._


	13. Pro: Jarvis Will Assist in Mischief (Even When Others Disapprove)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is crazy, life is fun, but I am back...for who knows how long?  
> Thanks for sticking with me, folks.  
> Cheers.

Cordi was getting fed up.

People thought that a ten-year-old didn't understand adult matters, but Cordi understood plenty.

Specifically, she understood (had, from the first mention of him over the phone) that her mother was head-over-heels in love with the Hulk and his mild-mannered alter ego. And she just as easily understood that the good doctor was avoiding her. Avoiding both of them, to the point where it was kind of embarrassing, watching him enter the communal area that had become one of Cordi's favorite hang-outs, only to turn on his heel and practically run back out the moment he caught sight of her. She had overheard more than one conversation between her mother and that weird guy Tony about how her working in the lab these days was pretty superfluous, with the way her boss was never around, and it didn't take a dummy to connect the dots.

Bruce Banner was scared of her.

That's all it could be, really; she knew that, though their flirtations were awkward, the two adults had worked together perfectly fine before her arrival. Jarvis, who it turned out was more of a gossip than would seem appropriate for an AI (she smiled a little at the irritated tone that took over whenever she called him 'Spy'), had become her go-to source for information on the misguided love-birds, and she had taken to asking him about any and all interactions the two might have had, both past and present. If she felt a little guilty for not asking her mother up-front, she soothed it with the memory of the tight look that crossed Darcy's face whenever Tony brought him up. She didn't need to, didn't want to, add to her mother's clear distress.

That being said, it was about time something be done about the situation, and after two weeks, Cordi had a plan.

Sort of.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Cordelia?"

A grin tipped her lips at the formality, before she asked, "Give me a twenty on the Hulk?"

"Doctor Banner is working with Doctor Foster in her lab." She nodded slowly, knowing the AI was watching when he went on, "Considering the complexity of the problem they are working on at the moment, I estimate he will be there at least another forty-three minutes and eighteen seconds."

The grin went full-tilt as she stood from the table she had been sitting at and walked toward the refrigerator. Though nothing in the convenience was labeled, she had learned early that anything organic belonged to the assassin lady, and that all the chocolate muffins were none other than Clint's. She darted out to take one anyway, knowing that he would forgive her --because of course he would know it was her who had taken it-- once she showed off how she had been practicing her archery later that afternoon. Now, though, it was germane to her predicament, and she needed all the help she could get.

Clint wasn't the only Avenger who loved chocolate.

"I am not certain that this plan of yours is in the best taste, Miss Cordelia."

Cordi rolled her eyes, but shrugged her acquiescence.

"Life is full of adventure, Jarvis. Live a little."

"I shall deign to try, Miss Cordelia," the AI responded drily, before asking, "Would you like me to clear the path for you?"

She stopped with the refrigerator door halfway closed, and then laughed.

"Do I want to know what you're going to do, Jarvis?"

"In such cases, Miss Cordelia, it is perhaps more well-served to say that 'Ignorance is bliss.'"

She laughed again and shut the door, before turning for the exit.

"All right, then. Ready to have some fun, Jarvis?"

"After you, Miss Cordelia."

~ + ~ + ~ + ~

"The pipsqueak stole one of your muffins."

Clint shot Natasha a look from where he sat on the floor polishing his bow and shrugged.

"So she's finally making her move."

"Move?" she arched a perfectly-shaped brow, and he grinned.

"You've been away too often, Nat. Our newest Avenger is doing some match-making."

"Living in the Tower does _not_ make her an Avenger," she snapped, before frowning and looking back at the screen in front of her. Tony had not questioned her request for a wall of LCD screens in her suite; he had money to spend, and liked to spend it, no matter how inane the purpose might seem. Convincing Jarvis to let her have her own look into all the nooks and crannies of the Tower was a little more difficult, but since they were on the same team --mostly, anyway-- her logic won out, and now she could see what was going on in the Tower, anytime, anywhere. She clicked a few keys on her keyboard, and the big center screen zoomed in on Darcy's daughter as she walked out of the communal kitchen and down the hall to the elevator. Natasha wasn't quite sure how she felt about having a child in the vicinity, especially one as quirky and mysterious as this pipsqueak was turning out to be. She was hiding something, but no matter how often she studied her, she couldn't find a thing. "What do you mean, she's match-making?"

"Doc's been avoiding Darcy," Clint replied matter-of-factly, and her eyes narrowed.

"And that's bad."

Her words weren't a question, exactly, but Clint knew her inflections --or non-inflections, as they might be-- pretty damn well by now, and he shook his head and sighed, setting the bow aside to face her squarely.

"Come on, Nat. You know better than that. You were the one who told me I was crazy when I was pushing for Steve."

"Because it's so obvious she sees him as a goofy brother-type."

The tension in her form was obvious, to him if no one else, and Clint eased slowly to his feet.

"I don't know if I'd ever call him 'goofy,'" he mused, walking casually to her side, and her gaze tightened once more. "Perhaps a little old-fashioned? Awkward, maybe."

"Clint."

"You know, just because you're still scared of him, doesn't mean the rest of us have to be."

The look in her eyes would have killed anyone else, and he knew, if someone else had suggested that the Black Widow was scared of the Hulk, her hand would have done more than just twitch in the direction of the blade he knew she kept hidden in her bodice. As it was, he simply smiled and sat in the chair that he knew she only kept there for him; though he often preferred the ground, where he could better feel the vibrations around him, she had bitched enough about him getting older and how much hell he was putting his knees through, crawling on the ground as he often did, so he let her buy the cushioned seat without complaint. Of course, he rarely used it, but that didn't make it useless, especially now when he needed to be on her level.

"You can't tell me you didn't notice how Darcy feels about him."

"A stupid crush," she retorted. "She's smarter than she pretends to be. She knows well enough that he's dangerous. Christ, he put her in the hospital the first time they met, Clint. He--"

"Makes her laugh even when she doesn't want to, and brings a light to her eyes that rivals the light when Cordelia is in the room."

"She wouldn't put her own daughter in danger for a star-crossed love affair."

"I didn't think there _were_ star-crossed lovers in King Lear," he frowned, and she stood abruptly and began pacing the length of the room.

"This isn't a joke, Clint. The Hulk is dangerous, even on the rare occasion when he can control himself. And while Darcy is a little whimsical sometimes, she's at least mostly predictable. A ten-year-old child--"

"You've blinded yourself to the possibilities," Clint sighed, and she stopped and stared at him, a mix of shock and anger on her face.

"The possibilities for _disaster_ , you mean?" she bit out, and turned on the heel of her black leather boots for the door.

"Don't interfere, Nat." She stilled a moment before giving a terse nod and she walked out. Clint turned back to the viewing screens, telling himself that Nat would come around soon enough, and smiled as he saw Cordelia exit the elevator on the thirteenth floor. "Alright, toots. Let's see what you've got."


	14. Con: Jarvis Will Assist in Mischief (And He Likes It Far Too Much), Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was anybody else waiting for this as long as I've been waiting?  
> It's amazing how the muse comes and goes on a whim.
> 
> I hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> Cheers.

People thought that Jarvis was just a heartless AI.

That was not exactly true.

Yes, he had no physical heart, no aorta to carry oxygenated blood to all tissues and body parts, no real body parts to carry the blood to --he did not count his times controlling the Iron Man suit as having a body-- but he was not, contrary to popular belief, a soulless piece of technology. As he had grown, as Tony had tweaked and improved upon his programming, he had found himself developing emotions and feelings to the point that not only could he understand the nuances of body language and expression of his creator, but of every other being he came into contact with. Miss Lewis and the young Miss Cordelia called him 'Spy' --a sobriquet he very much did not care for-- but he preferred to think of himself as a casual observer. He had updated his primary protocols to include the monitoring and study of all human interaction, that he might continue to understand them, and to be able to fulfill any and all needs that might be within his power to meet. He found it fascinating, how the human emotional state was in a constant state of flux, with the slightest outside force causing great, and vastly extreme, at times, reactions.

Most fascinating of all, he had found, was interactions concerning love affairs. His sensors had long-since picked up the pheromones that permeated the air whenever Tony and Miss Potts were in the same room, but it had taken them years to become the declared item that they now were, and though he had always thought his creator a bit dense when science and mechanics were not involved, he had been at once amused and dismayed that he did not see what was clear to the AI from the start: Tony and Miss Potts were in love. He had been on the verge of taking up that strange science called 'match-making' when seemingly out of nowhere, the two were together.

(He would never admit, even if someone thought to ask, that he was disappointed at not being able to use that science at the time.)

Some love affairs he had observed seemed like the fairy tales he had once spent an entire day researching --he had been surprised at how gruesome the endings for Russian tales were, and a little less-than-charmed by how boring the Grimms Brothers' adaptations were, but it was all in the name of science, so he rolled his optical sensors and read on-- like that of the demigod Thor and Doctor Foster. A prince from another world rescuing a brilliant young beauty from a fire-breathing monster? The French could have written no better, in his humble opinion. And the stories Captain America told often made him think of the tale of _The Ugly Duckling_ , with perhaps a dash of _Cinderella_ mixed in --though after watching him with Miss Lewis at Thor's return party, Jarvis thought a few dancing lessons might be in order.

Miss Lewis, now, she was an interesting subject when it came to affairs of the heart.

Miss Lewis initially gave off the air that she could ask someone to be her boyfriend for five minutes without a care, but the longer he studied her, the more Jarvis became confident that Miss Lewis was a fairy princess archetype.

And a bit of a tragic one, at that.

When he had first expressed a vocal interest in Miss Lewis, Jarvis had found a new protocol added to his programming within minutes:

_“The AI is not allowed to discuss or speculate on the romantic lives of the tower’s residents.”_

He would have laughed; Tony would have to try a lot harder than that to reign him in, but if his creator wanted him to keep silent on this matter, then he would.

For the most part.

As he watched Miss Cordelia push through the door to the roof of the tower, he almost smiled, if an AI could smile, that is. Miss Cordelia was perhaps only one piece of the puzzle that was Miss Lewis' person, but she was by far the most interesting part unearthed thus far. She was about as sarcastic as her mother, and nearly as dramatic. She was intelligent as well, and perhaps as much of a romantic as he was. She was also more than a tad reckless, and he did not hesitate to say so.

"Miss Cordelia, may I remind you that should this mission fail, you may find yourself suffering from severe bodily harm."

He heard her scoff, muttering, "Mission, ha," but she was smiling, he saw, and he could detect no trace of that emotion called fear within her small person. He was not wholly unconcerned; he had grown fond of the young girl, 'Spy' and all, and he knew that there might be literally hell to pay should he allow any harm to come to her. Tony had taken to being an honorary uncle like a fish to water, and though Jarvis might be able to override a simple command about discussing love affairs, he vividly recalled a week of writing and rewriting programs so that he could stop talking like what Tony had termed a six-year-old 'flower-power hippie.' He still wondered about the inspiration for that one, but he had learned caution, or a modicum of it, at least, when it came to taking on missions that would do more than just upset his creator.

"Miss Lewis will not be happy."

"She'll be ecstatic," the girl retorted, and sat herself down on the edge of the roof. The girl was fearless, he acknowledged, and he sighed internally.

"Shall I call her up here?"

"How is the Hulk's project going?"

He took a moment to analyze the progress that Doctor Banner and Doctor Foster were making, and replied, "They seem to have come to a stand-still. I believe Doctor Foster is unhappy with the current results, and wants to try a different formula."

"And they were so close," Cordelia sighed, her tone only slightly mocking, and Jarvis wondered if she had meant to sound so. "Can you call him up here?"

"I am not sure he will take the bait, Miss Cordelia."

"Just do it, Jarvis. Remember the plan? We call the Hulk first, then Okaa-san."

Another interesting point about Miss Cordelia was how she slipped foreign phrases into her common vocabulary with ease. He did not believe she actually knew any Japanese, or French, or German, but the words appeared randomly, and, in context, at least, they were accurate, so he had decided to set the matter aside before making any definitive judgments on her knowledge-base.

"Of course, Miss Cordelia."

He took a moment to let the doctor know that Tony had built something on the roof that he wanted him to see --there was no need to engage Doctor Foster's interest as well, though the idea of a strange phantasm appearing had crossed their minds-- before training the majority of his attention back on the young girl happily dangling her legs roughly one thousand and fifty-seven feet from street level. No, whatever she said, Miss Lewis would not be happy. And Tony might just up and erase him completely before starting over from scratch.

"Maybe I should have taken a second muffin," the girl pondered, looking down at the sugary confection in her hand, and Jarvis decided that she might just be more brash than the owner of those muffins himself.

"Perhaps if this plan fails, we shall make an addendum concerning chocolate supplies for the next one."

"It won't fail."

The words were quiet, but confident, and Jarvis was surprised she could be so calm. There had been such chaos in the romantic entanglings he had witnessed throughout his existence, even in the supposedly-perfect-for-each-other couples like Thor and Doctor Foster, and yet Miss Cordelia seemed to have no misgivings about the situation whatsoever. Of course, she was not strictly one of the lovers in question, but her role in this small drama was more than a key factor, and he would have assumed she would be worrying herself into a frenzy.

"Where is the Hulk now?"

Her words interrupted his reverie, which he decided to keep running in the background, and he answered, "Doctor Banner is in the elevator now. He should be arriving in about five minutes. He also appears to be irritated."

"Irritated is good."

He refused to be surprised that she said something about the Avenger that even his friends referred to as a giant green rage monster, and simply went on, "He is muttering about projects restarted and interrupted. And though he says nothing to that effect, I sense he is also hungry."

"I _knew_ the muffin was a good call," she said with a grin back towards the door.

"Indeed, Miss Cordelia. How long shall I wait before calling Miss Lewis?"

"Oh, I already called her."

If an AI could blink, Jarvis would have done so. The young girl reached into her pocket with her free hand and held up a small cell phone that Tony would probably get hives just looking at, and her grin widened.

"...I thought the plan was to call Doctor Banner first."

"And you did," she nodded. "I sent Okaa-san a text right after you called him."

Jarvis did a quick scan of the Tower and found that, indeed, Miss Lewis was heading their direction. And judging by her pace, she might actually get there before Doctor Banner.

"What did you tell her, Miss Cordelia?"

Would it be appropriate to take a more critical, more fatherly tone with the child? She was, perhaps, more trouble than Tony had been in his youth; at the very least, she was less predictable, and though Jarvis appreciated a challenge as well as the next AI, he would quite honestly rather not have to worry about baby-sitting the child, interesting puzzle piece or no. At least Tony --who if he knew Jarvis thought of their interactions sometimes as baby-sitting would probably throw a fit-- was an adult who could be held responsible for his own actions. He knew enough of the legal system to know that Miss Cordelia would suffer no consequences should mistakes be made --leaving out your run-of-the-mill juvenile delinquency or acts of terrorism, of course.

"Let's just say she'll be a little more urgent to get to the roof than our big green friend will."

There were so many things that Jarvis could say to the girl, about responsibility, safety, repercussions...

But he simply settled for saying, "I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation, Miss Cordelia."


End file.
